Light
by Cordria
Summary: Can Jack, Jazz, Sam, and Tucker find a way to save Danny before it's too late? Part 3 of Illuminations Saga.
1. Phone Call: Jack and Jazz

___Oh, praise the light from which all darkness hides._

* * *

**Light**  
A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

* * *

Chapter 1: Phone Call

_Jack and Jazz_

* * *

_I'm not even hungry for fudge._ Jack stared moodily at the plate in front of him, his chin propped up by one of his arms. With his free hand, he pushed the plate away and let his chin drop to the table. Lost in his mind, the large man let his eyes close.

In his mind he pictured Danny walking through the door, laughing at something his spooky girlfriend had said, the horrors of the past few weeks nothing but a nightmare. Dream Danny dropped his backpack on the table and rustled through the refrigerator for something edible before turning and heading out of the room to watch a movie with his friends.

Jack let himself get caught up in the daydream, a tiny smile on his face. The pure _normalness_ of the situation made it that much more realistic. Forgetting himself for just a moment, his eyes opened. The table was empty of the overlooked backpack, the remembered sounds of the trio's favorite movie drifting into nonexistence.

It hurt all over again, his heart breaking a bit more. His fingers curled into fists, his stomach knotting itself tightly. _Where are you? Why don't you come home? Damn it!_

He slammed his fist into the table, making the plate of fudge bounce and rattle. With a sour sigh he rubbed his hand and glared at the plate, reveling as the festering anger burned the fog in his mind away. _That lady… _He lashed out again, tossing the plate of fudge against the wall, the loops and twists in his stomach untying themselves slightly. The sound of the broken plate clattering to the floor filled the old kitchen. _Why did you take my son from me?_

Groaning, he sank back into his chair, his head resting on his arms. He felt himself fall back into the dazed funk he had lived the past few days in, the world receding back beyond the fringes of his mind.

He let his thoughts drift. _I can't just keep sitting here. I need something to do. _An image of his latest invention slid into his brain, but felt no joy at the thought of finishing it. The mass of parts still lay on a table in the lab in the exact same place it had been dropped two weeks earlier when Danny had vanished. It was unheard of for an unfinished invention to collect dust in this house, but he just couldn't find the energy to get out of his chair.

_First Danny, then fudge, and now ghosts. I have nothing left to lose. _

He sighed dramatically, unwilling to let himself continue to sit here and brood over his son's disappearance, but unable to decide what to do once he was standing. Caught in his internal struggle, he almost missed the phone ringing.

"Phone," he mumbled, raising his head slightly off of his arms to gaze into the living room. _Somebody answer it. _"Phone," he said a bit louder on the next ring. "PHONE!" he shouted when it managed to ring again. _I'm busy, somebody…_

_Jazz is at school_. He listened to it ring for the fifth time, the thoughts in his brain making it hard to think. _Maddie is off on some errand I think_. The doctors had said she'd need some time to herself after what she'd been through. _Danny is… Danny is de…_

His mind came to a standstill, refusing to finish the thought that had been creeping into his head. The 'd' word was not allowed to be spoken in this house – not yet. With a moan, he yanked his thoughts back into working order. _Danny is MISSING. Not de… he can't be. He can't be dea…_

Finally he shook his head sharply, reaching over to grab the phone on the ninth ring. "Hello?" he muttered.

"JACK!" The voice on the phone crackled and hissed on the poor connection, but the person was unmistakable.

"Maddie?" _Something is wrong…_

"Jack. Get Jazz. Hurry! Get to the hospital!" Maddie sounded out of breath, ambulance sirens wailing in the background.

Jack could hear men talking, but he couldn't make out the words. Straining to hear, his fingers clenched harder around the handset, making it squeak in complaint. "What? Maddie? Are you hurt?"

Maddie had been so wrapped up inside herself since her rescue. She hadn't cried once in the past four days. Jack felt his heart stop beating for a moment as the thought coalesced in his dazed mind. _She's had a breakdown…? _

"No."

Jack heaved a huge sigh of relief, missing what she'd said. "What?" he asked_._

"Danny's alive…"

He didn't hear any more of her words. Dropping the phone, forgotten, onto the floor, he raced out of the kitchen and slammed into the car. He had the car backed out of the driveway before the phone began to beep, wanting to be hung up. Almost sullenly, the phone wailed softly in the empty house, annoyed at being ignored.

* * *

Jazz sat in her third period class, drumming her fingernails slowly against the thick history book that hadn't yet been opened. Her blue eyes were fixed out the windows, distantly counting the clouds that rolled by. Somewhere in the back of her mind it was registering that the teacher was talking, explaining their homework, but Jazz just blinked and sighed. _Somehow… somehow school just doesn't seem that important today._

Her gaze dropped down and study her drumming fingers. _Danny would have loved to fly today, the weather's just perfect for it._ A sad smile drifted onto her face, her fingers becoming blurry. _Not too much wind, not too cloudy, but not too sunny. I still can't believe he learned all those aeronautical terms._ She chuckled softly, closing her eyes and picturing her little brother. He rolled his eyes at her, muttering something sarcastic under his breath.

Her mind churned slowly from happy memories to the thought of what was awaiting her at home. _Mom was so against me coming to school today. She's so worried about me – but she needs to be worried about herself. She can't accept the fact that Danny's dead… and she doesn't even know the whole truth._

Dropping her head onto her crossed arms, keeping her eyes closed, her brain continued to work, despite her wishes otherwise. _And Dad has just dropped into nothingness. He's given up on everything. We can't even use the word 'dead' around him without him freaking out._

She brushed an errant tear out of her eye, her brain stubbornly refusing to slow its thoughts. This was one of those times that she wondered what it would be like to just turn her brain off. Danny had claimed to be able to do that: pop in a movie or turn on a game and not a thought would cross his mind for hours. _Oh Danny, why did you have to die? It's not fair…_

_But that's you, isn't it? Always playing the hero? You gave your life to save someone you loved._ Jazz's eyes flickered open. Her gaze was drawn back out the window. _Should I tell them, little brother? Should they know how much of a hero their son was?_

"Jazz," the boy next to her hissed, poking her shoulder with his pencil.

She glanced at him, blinking in confusion. Now that she was yanked out of her musings, she could hear the reason for his interruption. It sounded like a stampeding herd of elephants was tearing through the school. _A ghost? Now?_ "Jazz!" a distant voice bellowed.

_I know that voice…_ Jazz sat perfectly still, the thousands of reasons her father would be racing through the school slamming into her mind, sorting themselves into logical and ordered piles. The most likely one filtered to the front of her mind. "Mom," she whispered. Her father called her name again, the emotion in his voice clear even from this distance.

She was out of her seat, heart thumping wildly and her throat choking up. Without a second glance at the teacher, she was wrenching open the door and stumbling into the hallway. Her father – orange jumpsuit easy to spot even in the horribly painted school – was standing at the other end of the hallway, looking lost. "Dad!" she called.

Her feet refused to move as he barreled towards her. "Jazz!" he yelled, his eyes wide and his face wet with sweat as he skidded to a stop right in front of her. "We need to get to the hospital," he panted.

A collective gasp behind her made Jazz glance over her shoulder: the entire class was peeking out the door. But she didn't give them a second thought as her knees started to tremble and her stomach twisted itself violently. She stared down at her feet, refusing to let the entire school see the panic growing in her eyes. _Mom…_ she cried in her mind. _It's finally happened. She's had a breakdown._ Tears welled up, threatening to send her over the edge and start bawling once more. _How bad is it?_ _It's got to be bad for Dad to be running through the school looking for me. _

_She didn't… she didn't kill herself… did she?_

Pure terror forced her to look up. She looked straight into his sparkling eyes, the small smile tugging at his lips sending her mind into a spiral of confusion. "What's going on? she asked, her heart settling back down into a somewhat normal pattern.

"Danny," he said softly. She watched in growing bewilderment as his smile grew into a full-on grin. "We need to get to the hospital."

"Danny?" she whispered. _Danny's dead… why would we… _"They found him?" she asked, her heart sinking. "They found his body?" _But why is he smiling? _

Somebody gasped behind her again, and the outpouring of sympathy from her classmates was almost tangible. Jazz's brow furrowed as her father shook his head happily. "He's alive," the man grinned.

"What?" The word was an intake of breath, her expression full of shock and surprise.

He was nodding his head, ignoring her uncomprehending look. "We need to go!" Suddenly twisting around on his heel, he began to stride out of the school, leaving Jazz standing, confused, in the hallway.

"He's…" Her mind refused to work; for the first time, the blankness she had so sought after earlier was surrounding her brain. "H-he's…"

A hand dropped onto her shoulder. The boy from earlier – the one that had poked her with his pencil – was shaking her gently. "Your brother's alive, Jazz. Get outta here." He flashed her a smile. "I'll take care of your stuff. Go."

He gave her a small push, getting her started. Jazz stumbled forwards a few steps. _Danny's… alive?_ The thought just wasn't meshing in her head. _He was dead… and now… he's… _

"He's alive," she whispered to herself, a tear trickling out of her eyes, her stomach tightening. Joy was beginning to bubble up from her toes, tickling her as it moved through her, making her whole body begin to shake. "He's alive!"

Suddenly she found herself twirling in the hallway, her arms outstretched. "HE'S ALIVE!" she screamed happily, not caring for the world who was watching her. _My little brother. He's alive._ She took a few steps towards the door, but stopped as a thought crossed her mind.

"Wait…" Jazz hesitated, glancing up at her father. The man had stopped at the end of the hallway, looking back towards her. "I'll meet you at the car!" she shouted, spinning around and dashing haphazardly deeper into the school, ignoring his puzzled look.

Room 14.

Room 15.

_Darn it, why is the room so far away?_

Room 16.

_There!_ Room 17.

She didn't even bother to knock – she just slammed the door open and rushed in. Mr. Lancer was in the middle of a book on ancient poetry, the book held in one hand, gesturing with the other. He glanced up, annoyed at the interruption. Jazz didn't pay him a second thought – her eyes were searching the room.

Sitting in the back corner were the two students she was looking for. Tucker and Sam both looked up when she barged in. Sam sat up straighter, staring.

Jazz knew she had a silly smile on her face. "They found him," was all she said.

Tucker fell out of his chair in his rush to get up. "He's… he's…"

"We need to get to the hospital." Jazz said. "He's alive."

Sam, who had finally gotten to her feet, sank to the ground and burst into tears.

_**To be continued...**_


	2. Hospital: Tucker and Sam

_The light will take you places you'd never expect._

* * *

**Light**  
A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

* * *

Chapter 2: Hospital

_Tucker and Sam_

* * *

Tucker grabbed onto the seat of the car, knuckles white, muttering under his breath. The car slid around the corner, slamming him against the door of the car. "Ouch," he hissed sourly, unwilling to remove one of his hands from the death grip on the seat to rub the sore spot.

"I want to get to the hospital as fast as he does," Tucker ranted softly to himself, "but slow down a bit, could you? We need to get there in _one_ piece. It's bad enough that we're going to a hospital, but could we make sure I'm a visitor not a patient? This is _insane_. Danny'd agree with me, right Sam?"

He glanced over at the Goth sitting next to him, watching a tear escape from her violet eyes and trickle down her cheek. Her black mascara had formed dark trails on her face; her hair had come out of the clip that normally held it back. A piece dangled in her eyes, but she didn't move to brush it or the tear away. She just stared down at her clenched fingers.

Tucker didn't have to look to see what was in her fingers. It was the same picture she had been carrying around for the past two weeks. He had snapped the shot a few months ago as the three of them had been lying on the roof of FentonWorks, completely ignoring life. Sam and Danny had cuddled up next to each other, eyes closed, small smiles on their faces, unaware of the 'blushy moment' that was about to happen. He'd given her the picture the day after Danny had disappeared and she hadn't let go of it since.

Wincing as the car took another sharp turn, he tried to force his mind away from the girl sitting next to him. She was like his sister – it hurt that she was in so much pain.

"Dad," Jazz snapped, breaking him out of his reverie, "you're going to kill us!" She gave a little yelp at the next sudden twist of the car, latching her fingers onto the console in the center of the car to keep herself from being tossed into the door. "Drive slower or drive straighter!"

Tucker bit back a disappointed groan as the speedometer climbed a few points higher instead and Mr. Fenton swerved dangerously around a few more cars. He glanced over at Jazz, half hoping she would say something more, but she was silent, staring forwards, biting her lip.

_That's dangerous,_ he thought, _she's going to bite her lip off if he hits something_.

Rattling his head against the window at the next screeched turn, his thoughts trailed to his missing friend. _Danny, you'd better be alive when we get there._ _You're my only brother, so I reserve the right to kill you if you don't live through this. You promised me that years ago, remember? I'm the only one allowed to kill you._ He glanced once at Sam, still lost in her own little world. _For Sam's sake, you'd better make it through this._

He sighed, wincing as they raced through a barely-yellow light. _Poor Sam, she can't do anything right now. She's so lost. It was so hard to get her moving and out of that classroom. She doesn't know what to think…_

_Hell, I don't know what to think. We all thought you were dead, Danny. Then you come back? I knew you would. That's you – you can do anything, right? But why couldn't you have come back sooner?_

Tucker sank back into his seat, watching the town race by. _Here I am, facing imminent death, holding a one-sided conversation with you in my head. No wonder we're such good friends. We're both completely nuts._ A small snicker escaped from his lips.

As the hospital came into view, Mr. Fenton pushing the car impossibly faster, Tucker felt a grin growing on his face. _Thank you, bro. Thanks for coming back to us._

The car screeched to a halt by the front doors, Mr. Fenton not caring about the fire lane one little bit. He jammed the car roughly into park and jumped out of the car, racing up the front stairs. The keys were left forgotten in the ignition, the door still ajar. Tucker was about to laugh and jab Jazz with her father's absentmindedness, but froze when he found her seat to be empty as well. The girl was only two steps behind her father, her open car door swinging slightly in her wake.

"Hmm…" Tucker finally managed to unweld his tensed fingers from the car seat. Slowly he unbuckled his seat belt, wincing at the pain in his hands. He reached up to the front seat with a sigh – fingers still trembling slightly from the death-defying car ride – and turned the car off. "Sam?" he sad, turning to his best friend. "We're here."

The girl didn't move, her amethyst eyes open and staring down at the picture in her hands.

"Sam?" When she didn't even blink, Tucker got out of the car, carefully closing both his door and Mr. Fenton's door, and slid over to her side of the car. After shutting Jazz's door, he opened hers and knelt down to unbuckle her seat belt. "Sam, you need to come with me." He grinned at her when she looked up, her eyes blank.

"Come on," he laughed, working to keep his tone happy, "we need to go see Danny!"

"Danny?" she whispered, blinking a bit of life into her eyes.

"Yup." He reached forwards and brushed at her cheeks for a moment, smudging the mascara lines on her face. "Come on, Sam, let's go see Danny." He grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the car. Kicking the door shut, he dragged her towards the hospital doors.

"Danny," Sam whispered. A small smile was beginning to grow on her face, "Danny's alive."

* * *

_He was so still_. Sam stared through the small window that led to the operating room. Danny had been wheeled past just as she had come in; she had only seen him for a moment. Not nearly long enough to see if he was okay. She sighed, shifting her weight, waiting. The doctors wouldn't let anybody go through those doors. Not yet. _So I'll wait._

A man in a green shirt came around the corner of the hallway beyond the doors, holding his clipboard. Sam's breath caught in her throat as she watched him come nearer, only to stop about half way and enter a room. She moaned, clenching her fingers tighter around her picture of Danny. _Someone come tell me if he's okay._

Behind her, Tucker, Mr. and Mrs. Fenton, and Jazz were sitting down. She glanced at them before returning to her vigil of the hallway. Tucker was pale, shaking and gazing around nervously. Mr. Fenton was looking lost and confused. Jazz seemed to be torn between being ecstatic and terrified. They were talking… talking… talking…

She didn't want to talk. She wanted to know how Danny was doing.

"It was an accident," Tucker was saying softly behind her, "with the ghost portal."

"He'll be okay," Jazz interrupted.

"He's always okay," Tucker sounded like he was nodding.

Another man in green walked around the corner, Sam standing up on her tip-toes to watch as he strode closer and closer. _Don't stop, come talk to me, don't stop_, she prayed silently, her heart leaping as he passed the half-way mark. But he stopped just a few doors later and entered a room.

_No…_ she snarled to herself, dropping back to the flats of her feet. _Stupid doctors_.

"He's not good," Mrs. Fenton said softly. "That long without food and he's covered in bites and cuts. We don't have any idea what he's been through the past four days."

"But he'll be okay," Jazz reassured the group.

"He's not good," Mrs. Fenton whispered just loud enough for Sam to catch.

Sam reached up to touch the cold glass that was separating her from Danny. _You'd better live through this ghost-boy. _A young woman entered the hallway, not looking up as she moved down the hallway. Sam watched her get closer and closer, then reach out to push open the door…

"Fenton?" the doctor called softly. Instantly the others were on their feet, crowding around her.

"Yes?" Mrs. Fenton managed.

"He's stable," she said softly, clutching her clipboard to her chest, a vague frown on her face. "But there were some… complications."

"Complications?" Mr. Fenton's voice broke. "What do you mean?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Fenton, your son is very weak. He's been for so long without food, and that brings up all sorts of problems. His immune system is almost nonexistent right now, so we're fighting to keep him from getting infected by something. We're worried about rabies from all those bites, the dehydration and malnutrition, his body temperature…"

"What complications?" Mr. Fenton repeated.

"He's in a coma," the doctor admitted. "And there is a strong possibility that he might never come out of it. The deck isn't stacked in his favor right now. We're doing everything we can… but…"

"But?"

The doctor shifted her weight on her feet uneasily. "So far, he's rejected all of the drugs we've given him. Trying to keep him from getting sick is making him worse… but not giving him anything is a death sentence right now." She hesitated, glancing down at her clipboard. "We're going to keep working on – hopefully something will stick."

"What's his temperature?" Tucker cut in.

The doctor blinked down at him. "Um… 96.3. We're trying to get it up."

"That's a fever for him," Sam said softly, her eyes drifting back to the hallway. "He's normally 95.6 degrees."

"We don't have that," she murmured, flipping through her file. "You sure?"

Tucker nodded. "He got into an accident a year ago and that's what it's been since then."

The doctor glanced up at Mr. and Mrs. Fenton. "Is that right?"

After a moment's hesitation, Mrs. Fenton nodded her head.

"He doesn't throw up Advil," Sam added distantly, "does that help?"

"Yes," the doctor said slowly, jotting down the notes on her board. "Thank you."

"Can we see him?" Mr. Fenton put in.

"In a bit," the doctor smiled. "I'll come get you when you can." Then she turned and walked back through the doors, down the long hallway, her shoes clicking on the hard floors.

The others went back to sitting down, but Sam just continued to stand there, staring down the hallway. _I don't want to talk. I just want to know Danny's okay._

Almost in surprise, she felt another tear trickle down her cheek. She absently reached up to brush it away. _There can't be many tears left._

"Sam?" Tucker appeared over her shoulder. "Come eat something. Danny will be fine."

She shook her head, ignoring him. _I just want to stand here and wait for Danny. Oh please, Danny, don't die… _

**_To be continued..._**


	3. Asleep: Jazz and Tucker

_Emotions come out to play in the light._

* * *

**Light**  
A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

* * *

Chapter 3: Asleep

_Jazz and Tucker_

* * *

Jazz ran her fingers through her brother's messy hair. He looked so small and pale on the hospital bed – so helpless. The monitors beeped around the room, but Jazz was paying them no mind. Danny had been unconscious for three days. She'd gotten used to the beeping.

A small smile grew on her lips. "Danny?" she asked softly, "Did you know that Dad gave up fudge when we thought you had died?" She let a chuckle trickle up her throat. "Not just ghost hunting – but _fudge_?"

Danny was silent and unmoving against the white sheets. A tiny corner of her heart cracked at his lack of response to her questions. _Of course he's not answering, dim-wit!_ Jazz chided herself, trying once more to push his unruly hair out of his face.

Jazz let a small sigh escape her. "Dad has never given up on fudge before, but he hasn't eaten a bite since mom found you in that building." She let her fingers move away from his hair and grabbed his hand. "That, and he hasn't touched his ghost stuff in weeks. There are unfinished ghost weapons in the basement with _dust_ collecting on them. Can you believe it?"

This time, she didn't pause to wait for him to answer. "You should have seen him, little bro, when Mom told him you were the ghost-boy. You would have enjoyed the look on his face. I'm sorry you weren't there to see it." She laughed for a moment before continuing. "He actually _fainted_, Danny. I know it's not funny, but I remember how you use to joke about what they'd do when they found out. You never thought that he'd faint."

Silence stretched between the siblings. It wasn't an awkward silence, but more of a comfortable stillness – feelings being expressed without words. "Sam and Tucker have been here every day, you know," she said softly, staring down at his fingers. "Even Valerie has been here a few times."

Her voice dropped to a murmur. "Sam's parents have had to really threaten her to get her to go home at night. I guess I understand how she feels."

She set his hand back down on the white blankets and fussed with the sheets for a moment. "I know you think I'm overprotective and never let you live you life…" she trailed off, a small smile setting itself on her face. "And I know I've said this before, Danny, but I was scared this time."

She got out of her chair and paced around the room. "Scared… and guilty. Danny…" she stopped, looking over at him. "A lot of this is my fault. I did so many things _wrong_, and I don't know how to make up for them. I don't know how to apologize. I didn't think twice when you vanished. I told so many lies to Mom and Dad to keep them from knowing you were gone. I just figured you were off fighting some ghost – I never thought for a second you were actually in trouble."

Jazz picked up a large 'Get Well Soon!' card from the table and flipped through it, still amazed at the number of names inside. "It took _days_ to sort out the fact that you were actually missing. That was all my fault. If I hadn't told all those lies we might have found you before it was too late."

"And then," she set down the card, unable to read it anymore because her vision had gotten so blurry, "and then Mom disappeared. Something inside of me cracked. I didn't know what to do." She stalked back over to the bed, leaning over her brother, staring him straight in the face. "_I_ didn't know what to do. I was being torn apart and you weren't there to make it better. You always knew what to say – something sarcastic or witty or something – and that was _missing_."

Her voice dropped to a raspy whisper, her eyes blinking hard to keep back the tears that were threatening to overflow. "When Mom was rescued and she told me about you… I broke on the inside. I couldn't even be _sad_. I was just… there. You were dead and I was alive… and that was that. I gave up on you." She sank back into her chair. "I let you die."

She leaned forwards, searching his face for some sign of life. "I need you to wake up and be my hero. I need to you tell me everything is going to be all right."

Danny was silent, the beeping of the monitors steady despite her emotion-filled monologue.

Jazz finally sat back in her chair, crossing her arms. Her blue eyes traveled to the window and gazed out at the beautiful day. "Fine," she said softly, wiping the wetness from the corner of her eyes and smiling softly. "I'll wait."

* * *

Tucker leaned against his best friend's locker, scanning the school hallways. His eyes lit upon a beautiful girl talking to a few friends. Huge green eyes and long, blonde, curly hair.

Arranging his face into a sad, vaguely depressed, didn't-get-enough-sleep look, he started across the hallway. He'd spent most of the morning perfecting this look. _Danny'd love this_. He bumped into the green-eyed girl, spilling his armload of books dramatically onto the floor. "Sorry!" he gasped.

He stumbled backwards a few steps, then leaned down to pick up his books. He fumbled with a notebook, letting it tumble back to the ground. "Sorry," he mumbled again.

"It's okay," the girl sighed, leaning down and picking up one of his books. "Here."

Tucker pushed himself back to his feet, grabbing the book out of her hands and sending her a hopeful smile. "Thanks – Jessie, right?" he asked.

She nodded, then turned away and back to her friend. Tucker stood there for a few another few moments, shifting his weight from foot to foot. _Come on,_ he begged, _look at me. Ask me what I'm still doing here._

"Can I help you?" she finally snapped, turning around to stare at him.

"Well, you're really nice and…" he trailed off for a second, hugging his textbooks to himself, "and I was wondering if you'd want to do something with me, to – you know – take my mind off of things?" He let his brown eyes get as soft and sad as he possibly could.

Her green eyes gazed back into his dubiously. Then they hardened in rejection and Tucker barely stopped himself from flinching. He turned his gaze to the girl that Jessie had been talking to. He watched the blonde crumble. _Perfect._

"Why would I do something with _you_?" Jessie hissed sourly.

"Jessie," the blonde whispered, "this is Tucker… you know… _Danny Fenton's_ best friend?"

Tucker winced, trying his best to ignore the feeling of just having been punched. _Come on… please…_

"You're Tucker?" Jessie wondered, her harsh gaze melting slightly.

He smiled, working hard to keep it a sad smile. "Yeah. I'm going to the hospital after school tomorrow… and I kind of need some company afterwards. Someone to talk to, you know?" He let his eyes drop to his feet, digging his toe into the tiles.

"TUCKER!" Sam materialized at his shoulder. He almost levitated in shock, spinning around to stare at her. She was seething, her nose inches from his. "Don't you DARE use Danny like that! He's trapped in a hospital, almost dead, and you are USING him to get a GIRL?"

Her violet eyes were flashing dangerously. Tucker swallowed and backed away from her before retaliating. "I am not," he snapped, "I would never use Danny like that." He turned back to Jessie and gave her a small grin. "Get back to me?"

Jessie nodded, but edged off down the hallway, sending odd glances over her shoulder.

Tucker scowled. _Wonderful._ "Why did you do that?" he asked, twisting back to the irate Goth.

"You were _using_ him. Danny is not a thing!"

"Sam," he whispered. "There are a couple of things you're missing. One, Danny has been half-dead for months, so him lying around half-dead is nothing new. Two, I almost had a date – and one for Danny too. When he wakes up, I could have every girl in the school fawning over us. He'd like that. And three, Danny will be _fine_. He's strong."

"You act like nothing is wrong." Sam's eyes narrowed. "You act like Danny is going to walk around the corner any second. But he's not, Tucker Foley. He could die. And you're using him to get a date."

"Sam…"

"Don't!" Sam screamed, causing students all around them to drop books. "Don't even start. You're… you're…" she broke off with a frustrated yell. When she was out of breath, she glared at him. "Don't talk to me." Sam stormed off, shoving people out of her way if they weren't quick enough.

Tucker stood there, watching her go. He shook his head sadly, drifting back across the hallway to lean against Danny's locker. The hallway was rapidly emptying, but the young man just continued to stand there, staring across the hallway. _This is where we met to walk to the next class, swapping half-done homework._

The bell rang in the distance, but he didn't move for a few more moments. Finally, he shook his head sourly. _Danny'll be fine._ _Stop worrying._ "I need a girlfriend," he muttered darkly. After a few seconds of silence, he headed slowly to class, his mind falling back into the dark depths from which he had been able to yank himself out of during his chat with Jessie.

_**To be continued...**_


	4. Notes: Sam and Jack

_Open your minds to the light._

* * *

**Light**  
A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

* * *

Chapter 4: Notes

_Sam and Jack_

* * *

Sam collapsed onto her familiar chair at school, closing her eyes. She hated being stuck here at school while Danny was lying in the hospital. Jazz had promised to call her the instant Danny woke up, but she would rather be _there_, not here listening to some drivel on medieval literature. Closing her eyes, Sam rubbed her temples with her fingers

She heard Tucker drop into his chair on her left, ignoring him. There was still a bit of anger over him using Danny to get girls. But when she cracked open her eyes, the first thing she did was glance over at Tucker. He was absently playing with his PDA, waiting for class to start, a distant look on his face.

"Welcome to another exciting day of medieval literature," Mr. Lancer intoned, his voice not sounding 'excited' at all. Some days Sam couldn't decide if Lancer truly liked literature as much as he always said he did. Today was one of them: he sounded positively bored.

She drummed her fingernails against the desk, staring down at the blank page of her notebook. _I really should be taking notes._ But she made no move to grab her pencil. Her eyes drifted, fixing on the empty desk in front of her. In her half-asleep daze, she could almost imagine Danny walking into the classroom, a sour look on his face as Lancer handed him another detention slip for being late.

He'd drop into his desk after sending her a significant glance, then set about writing up what had just happened on a piece of paper, his black hair dangling in his eyes. _What would he write about today? It'd probably be something about the Lunch Lady since we had mystery meat for lunch. He'd even use that stupid code that he and Tucker designed. 'LL got into CH1 and made a MESS. She went AWOL and ended up at the NB. She's in the FT.'_

Suddenly a piece of paper was stuffed unceremoniously onto her desk. Blinking out of her daydream, she stared at it for awhile, trying to get her brain in gear. _What the…_

**I've been thinking.**

_That's not Danny's handwriting. It's legible._

With a glance at Tucker, she scribbled, **About what? **

**Why hasn't Danny woken up yet?**

Sam stared at the note. _What a stupid question. He didn't get any food for two weeks, was "stuck" in ghost mode the entire time, and he apparently vanished off the face of the planet for a few days. Of course he's not awake! S_he wrote: **Why?**

**It's been too long. He should have woken up days ago.**

Blink. _Days ago?_ **Why would he have woken up days ago? **As she handed the note back, she risked Lancer's wrath to turn and look at Tucker. He had a worried expression on his face.

**Based on how fast he usually heals, he should have been up and moving around after just a couple of days. But he's still unconscious. I can't figure out why.**

Sam tapped her pencil eraser against her lips, thinking. She trusted Tucker to have the facts straight and her heart was telling her that he was right. Something was wrong. **Any thoughts?** she scribbled.

**I think it may be that his human side is being healed… and maybe that's it.**

Sam could fill in the blank. **But his ghost side?**

**That's what I'm thinking about.**

She sat back in her chair, staring out the window. After a couple of seconds, she twisted her head around to glance at the clock. 2:14. _I need to get to the hospital, _she thought. _I need to help Danny. Tucker, Jazz, and I can solve any problem – we always have. We've saved the whole world more than once… but we need to be together._

Neither Lancer nor the clock seemed willing to help. 2:15. Time was just flying by.

* * *

The large man was sitting perfectly still in the hospital chair, his chin resting on his clenched fist, his eyes glued to the still form on the bed. The boy's messy black hair was barely visible under masses of tubes and wires. Only the steady sound of the heart monitor showed he was still alive.

His son.

His _half-ghost_ son.

Unable to take let his eyes drift away from the greenish blips on the monitor, he waited for his mind to come up with _something _useful. He needed to stop dwelling on the past. He needed too…

_How could he have hid it from me for all this time? This is Danny we're talking about - even I can read Danny like an open book._ _How come he never told us? We could have helped him._

Jack Fenton sighed, letting his eyes close. _Why is he still unconscious?_

Usually he was brimming with ideas, solutions to problems, and theories about how things should work. If it was any other day, he'd have so many things bouncing around in his head he wouldn't be able to concentrate. But not today. Today, the problem was lying on a bed a few feet away and the solution was nowhere to be seen. Not even a hint of an idea. Jack didn't even know where to _start_ to look for ideas - he was so used to them just popping into his head.

He was still staring moodily at his son, trying to get his brain to work, when a hand settled onto his shoulder. "Jack? You want to talk?" Maddie whispered.

"How can he be the Ghost-Boy?" Jack rumbled. _Why did that come out?_ He wrinkled his forehead, giving his head a small shake. _I've decided not to think about that anymore. Moving on…_

Maddie sighed. "We've been over this. You heard what Jazz and Tucker said earlier. It was an accident with the Ghost Portal."

"I know…"

"He's a hero, Jack." She knelt down, her caring eyes locking onto his. "Now, something's bothering you. What is it?"

His gaze swept away from Maddie and back onto their son, unknowingly echoing exactly what Tucker was asking Sam across town. "Why doesn't he wake up?"

"He went for so long without food and he's so weak right now. It'd be a miracle if he had already woken up. Remember what the doctors said?" She sank into the chair next to him, her voice soft, her hand rubbing slow circles on his back.

_I remember…_ Nothing would ever be able to wipe the memories from his mind. The look in Maddie's eyes when she heard what the doctors had to say; the tears trickling out of Jazz's eyes; the devastated expressions on Danny's friends' faces. He could still hear the young woman's words, her voice fading in and out in his mind. The important words would stick with him for an eternity.

_If he wakes up… might not remember anything… probably never be the same… low white blood count… infections… heart problems… arrhythmia… lower body temperature… rejecting medications… might never wake up…_

His son was very sick. He wasn't completely human, Sam and Tucker had known that Danny's heartbeat and breathing were slower than normal and that his body temperature had gone down. The fact that normal medications were making him sicker was nothing new – apparently Danny hadn't been able to take anything stronger than Advil for the past year. Even the low white blood cell count could be written off…

Which left all of them wondering why he was still in a coma.

"I'm Jack Fenton," he muttered under his breath, "I'm a world-renowned ghost expert and a brilliant scientist. My inventions are being used on seven continents and other planets." His voice grew hoarse. "My son could die right there, inches away, and there wouldn't be anything I could do about it." Eyes starting to burn, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"He'll be fine," Maddie whispered in his ear. "The doctor's say he should wake up any day."

"They've been saying that for days." His voice broke.

"Sam and Tucker think he'll be fine too." She hesitated, then stood up. "I'm going to get something to eat from the cafeteria. I'll bring you back some food, alright?" She smiled at him. "Danny will be fine. We'll think of something to help him."

Jack shook his head helplessly as she shut the door softly behind her. Without his usual thoughts clouding his head, he could think clearly. For the first time in their marriage, he could see right through her sunny smile and glittering eyes. Maddie was just as afraid as he was. She didn't want to think about losing their son. Again.

Quiet minutes passed as he stared down at the tile of the floor. "Why hasn't he woken up yet?" He should have, based on everything those three had told him. Danny should have been up and running around by now. Something was wrong.

He just needed to think. Logic solves problems. If the idea wasn't going to come to him, he was going to go to it. Gritting his teeth, he closed his eyes and let his powerful mind work. No matter what most of the world said, he truly was a brilliant scientist on the rare occasions when he was focused. And if he ever needed a reason to focus, it was lying in the bed in front of him.

_Start at the beginning…_ He leaned forwards, settling his elbows on his knees and resting his head on his hands. Keeping his eyes closed, he pictured the day that Danny had been kidnapped. He could remember it perfectly: every moment was etched into his brain with crystal clarity.

It had all started with brunch. And a tall, elegantly dressed lady named Jessica Oscura…

**_To be continued..._**


	5. Flashback: Jazz and Sam

_Lights come in many colors. _

* * *

**Light**  
A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

* * *

Chapter 5: _Flashback_

_Jazz and Sam_

* * *

It was the fanciest restaurant in town. Jazz stared up at the crystal chandeliers dangling from the ceiling, her eyes wide as the man lead them to their table. The Fentons had never even _thought _about eating at the _Tré Lounge_. There were no hamburgers, pepperoni pizzas, or sundaes piled high with fudge.

When her mom had received the invitation for brunch with a "Ghost Hunting Equipment Prospector", she had taken Jazz on a shopping spree. Glancing down at the dress she was wearing, Jazz figured at least the two of them fit the atmosphere of the place. Dad was still wearing his Day-Glo jumpsuit and Danny had 'dressed up' in a pair of jeans that lacked holes.

"Mrs. Fenton!" a lady called from the table, waving an elegantly gloved hand in the air. Jazz's eyes widened even further as following her parents over to the table. The lady wore sharp heels and a tailored green dress, and her a designer handbag accented a movie-star hair style.

Jazz grinned when Danny muttered something dark under his breath. He was here on protest - loud and continual protest. He had previously had the day planned for hanging out with his friends and watching the latest movies. But to their parents, apparently, meeting the world-renowned and famous Jessica Oscura trumped 'chilling.'

Mrs. Oscura held out a graceful hand for Jazz to shake. Easily six feet tall without her impossibly-high heels, Mrs. Oscura was lithe and powerful. Her carefully coiffed hair was caramel colored and her eyes were an odd shade of brown. When she sent Jazz a blinding smile, her eyes seemed to sparkle rust red for a moment.

Jazz was still watching when Mrs. Oscura reached out to shake Danny's hand. When their hands touched, her eyes seemed to flare red and Danny jerked his hand away, rubbing at it sourly. _What was that?_ Jazz wondered.

She tore her eyes off of the mysterious lady to glance at her parents. Dad was busy scanning the menu, mumbling about how he was supposed to order when he couldn't _read_ the menu. Mom was all business, pulling out various contraptions from the box they had brought with and setting them on the table.

Talking a seat, her eyebrows furrowed when Danny grabbed the seat next to hers and slid the chair over as far as possible. He was practically sitting in her lap. She sent him a reassuring smile. He did not smile back.

"Maddie," Mrs. Oscura smiled, showing every one of her perfect teeth, "I'm here, representing the GHS, to take a look at some of your most recent inventions and see if they merit GHS support and funding. If I find some inventions worth our time, the GHS will look in to purchasing the concept from you to mass produce the weapon for resale. Of course, you know the drill, we've done this before." She glanced over at Jack, who was drooling over the pictures in his menu, and her smile faltered slightly. "Perhaps we should eat first?"

"I'm not hungry," Danny muttered, his blue eyes never leaving Mrs. Oscura's face.

Jazz leaned over. "Danny?" she whispered, "What's wrong?"

Danny hesitated, his gaze flickering to her and then back to the lady. "I don't know," he hissed.

"Is she a ghost?"

Danny shook his head. "I don't know what it is. I just really want to leave. I don't trust her."

Jazz picked up her menu and watched her brother out of the corner of her eyes. Danny didn't seem aware of it, but Jazz was convinced Danny possessed some kind of ghost sixth-sense. He usually seemed to know when the day was going to go terribly wrong. Turning her eyes to Jessica Oscura, Jazz gazed at her over the top of the menu. Whoever she was, she kept glancing at Danny, frowning.

Lost deep into her own thoughts, Jazz jumped when the waiter appeared over her shoulder to ask what she would like to order. "Um…" she stalled, glancing down at the menu that she had been holding all this time without actually looking at, "I'll have the huevos con queso with fresh fruit."

"Thank you," the waiter said, taking her menu and vanishing.

"Now," Mrs. Oscura smiled and leaned forwards, her eyes bright and staring straight at Danny. "Daniel. It's interesting to find a young man that is so interested in ghost hunting."

Danny stared her down, his blue eyes showing nothing. "My parents fight ghosts. Not me," he said shortly.

"Danny…" Maddie chided softly.

Danny managed an obviously fake smile. "I'm not all that interested, no, Mrs. Oscura."

Mrs. Oscura laughed. "I'm sorry if I seem to be prying, Danny, but it's not often I get the chance to speak with the younger generation of ghost hunters, and I'm intrigued. Which of your parent's devices is your favorite invention?"

Jazz was about to speak up when Danny spoke. "I'm partial to the Fenton Bazooka. It sends ghosts back to the ghost zone without really hurting them." Jazz looked at him in surprise. Out of all of their parent's inventions, the Ghost Gabber and the Fenton Bazooka were the two he complained about most often.

"Don't like to see ghosts get hurt, hmm, Danny?" Mrs. Oscura said softly, her eyes boring into Danny's head. Jazz felt the hairs on the back of her head stand up. The conversation had suddenly taken a turn and a strange undercurrent ran between the speakers. She shivered.

"I don't suppose I do," Danny said, equally softly, his blue eyes narrowing dangerously. "You don't need to torture them."

Mrs. Oscura's smile became feral. "You must spend a lot of time in your parents' lab. I suppose every so often there are small mishaps? Accidents? You've never been _hurt_ in one, have you?"

_Did she just… What? _Jazz blinked. _I need to get her off of this topic._ "So… Mom… why don't you show her the Fenton Bazooka?" She looked up at her mom, who was staring back and forth between Danny and Mrs. Oscura, looking confused. Jazz thought that she would need to say something more when her clueless father took over.

"That's a wonderful idea, Jazzy!" he bellowed, almost vaulting over the table to pull the Fenton Bazooka out of the box of inventions and waved it around in the air, completely destroying the dangerous undertone of the table.

Danny sent one final glare in Jessica Oscura's direction before she was overtaken by an overly eager orange jumpsuit. He growled softly, glancing in Jazz's direction. "I'm going to the bathroom. Don't be too surprised when I don't come back." He pushed his chair out from the table and stormed away.

Her mother looked up, her eyes following her son to the bathrooms and then trailing over to gaze into Jazz's. Jazz blinked in surprise when she saw the understanding in her mother's eyes. Maddie raised an eyebrow, asking a silent question. Jazz smiled slightly, shaking her head. Then, to Jazz's further surprise, her mother turned her gaze to Mrs. Oscura, her eyes narrowing a bit in suspicion and biting her lip slightly.

Neither of them were terribly shocked when Danny never came back to the table, and her father never apparently noticed, his mind taken up with thoughts of his inventions. Mrs. Oscura, however, kept glancing at the bathrooms, an odd smile flickering across her face each time.

Jazz spent the rest of the brunch ignoring her father's ramblings, staring at the elegant and mysterious lady. _Who is she? __What does she know? And do we have to do anything about it?  
_

* * *

Sam leaned back against the light post, staring up at the battling ghosts. Danny could have destroyed this ghost almost a half-hour ago if he'd have truly wanted to, but he was drawing the battle out, letting off steam. She couldn't really blame him. Danny had been almost _crackling_ with energy when they'd met up at lunch. Although… she was starting to pity Technus a little. Just a _little_.

When Danny finally sucked the completely trounced Technus into the thermos and drifted down to hover next to her, he was still breathing deeply, his glowing green eyes flickering with repressed anger. "Feeling better?" she asked.

He sent a small smile her way. "A bit."

"Are you going to tell me what this was really all about?" Sam asked. "Technus couldn't have ticked you off that badly."

Danny, after glancing up and down the deserted alley, turned back into his human form. His blue eyes still simmered angrily, but he managed to grin at her as they started walking up the street. "Remember that Ghost Hunting Society lady I told you about?"

"You had brunch with her."

"Yeah." Danny was silent. Sam paused, watching him walk a few steps ahead of her. His whole body quivered with… _something_. He was really on edge. Sam bit her lip, catching up. Danny, recently, had always known when _something_ was up in Amity Park. This was no different.

"What about it?"

Danny stared at the ground as they walked. "The second I saw her, and those odd red eyes of hers, I wanted to run in the other direction as fast as possible. I don't know why, Sam. I've never felt the desire to run that strong before. I almost did." His voice was quiet, his eyes troubled. Then he laughed. "I guess I did run away."

Sam punched his arm reassuringly. "So? Who cares? Maybe she's just creepy."

Danny shook his head. "No, it's more than that. She narrowed in on _me_ the instant I shook her hand. You should have felt the goose bumps that raced up my spine when I touched… whatever she is. Then she started asking me all these questions…" Danny trailed off.

"Are you ever going to see her again?"

"No." Danny blinked at her.

"Then stop worrying about it." Sam grinned at him. "You need to take your mind off of it. Come on. _Dead Teacher VI: the Special Silver Extended Edition_, is playing in the old cinema on 5th street. I know that's your favorite one. We'll call Tucker and get him to meet us there."

He looked up at her, a small smile on his face. "Yeah, you're probably right, Sam."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Of course I'm right, Ghost Boy. Let's go. I'll buy."

As they walked up the street, Sam couldn't help but glance at Danny out of the corner of her eye. His eyes were still troubled and on edge. She sighed. Danny might not be aware of his weird "Sense of Impending Doom" (or so Tucker had named it), but Sam was. And she knew that it was still going off like mad. Whatever it was that was setting it off, it was still coming, and it wasn't going to be good.

**_To be continued..._**


	6. Flashback: Tucker and Jack

_Beware the darkness that hides from the light._

* * *

**Light**  
A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

* * *

Chapter 6: _Flashback_

_Tucker and Jack_

* * *

As the sun was setting, Tucker found himself in his usual spot in front of his computer, waiting for his parents to call and say that supper was ready. Although it was usual for his friends to be over, the fact that only one of them was present was bit out of the ordinary. Danny had left for dinner, but Sam was still hanging over the back of his computer chair, elbows resting on his shoulders.

"Jessica Oscura," she commanded when he loaded the internet and found a search page.

"Shouldn't Danny be part of this?" He shot a glance over his shoulder at her. "It was _his_ meeting after all."

"He's taking time off."

Tucker rolled his eyes. "Does he know that?"

"Nope," she grinned. "Type, techno-geek."

He entered 'Jessica Oscura' into a Google search and sighed when close to three million partial hits came back. _At least it's a start. We can refine the search later._ "Let's see," he mumbled, scrolling through the long list of links. Clicking on one that seemed helpful, he smiled. "Oscura means 'dark' in Spanish. Neat."

"And yet, completely unhelpful."

_Some people have no respect for random factoids_. Closing the link, he continued to scroll, scanning through summaries. By the end of the page the links were completely irrelevant, so he scrolled back to the top. "Jessica Oscura International Ghost Hunting Society," he muttered as he typed.

This time, the search was better. Tucker grinned as he clicked on the second link – heading them straight for the GHS's homepage. Within seconds, a short biography had popped up. "Perfect."

The Goth leaned over, her bushy, black hair getting in the way. "Hey!" Tucker protested, leaning over to try and read. With a scowl, he kicked his chair away from the computer and transferred the webpage to his PDA. Pushing Sam out of the way wasn't an option; the boot-shaped bruise on his shin was proof of that.

But he kept the computer chair. Sam could stand. It served her right.

Scrolling through the page, he skimmed over most of the propaganda before finding the actual biography. "She's a prominent ghost hunting equipment specialist," Tucker read, "holding patents for seventeen ghost weapons – four of which have been considered 'ground breaking.'"

Sam snorted. "The Fentons invent seventeen new ghost weapons every week. And if you count 'ground breaking' as the ones that don't explode – they've got at least four."

"Yeah, but the Fentons don't usually bother to take out patents for their stuff, so it doesn't count in the world's eyes. What did Danny say? They've got five patents? And one of them is for that ecto-microwave that makes everything come to life."

"Hey - you never know when you'll need a shield of living hot dogs." Sam grinned sarcastically over her shoulder at him before turning back to the computer. "And I won't even get into my usual rant about processed meat and the ethical dilemma of bringing it _back_ to life just to eat it."

"She's worked for the GHS for nine years," Tucker continued, chuckling at the memory of how Sam had reacted when she found out that Mr. Fenton had actually _eaten_ those living wieners, "and is on the current governing board. According to this, she knows more about ghosts and spectral lore than anybody alive." He raised an eyebrow. "Other than Danny, of course."

"And us, probably." Sam tapped the screen, continuing to read. "She's married. Apparently, her whole family is really big into ghosts. Her parents have published books about the paranormal and her husband gives lectures on 'spectral incidents' – whatever that means. Her brother runs the…" she trailed off, her eyes growing wide.

Tucker followed the test, his PDA nearly dropping out of his hands when he caught up to her. "No way," he whispered. _That's not possible. The coincidence is… it can't be. Not him._ "No wonder why Danny's doom sense is going off so strongly. Nobody in that family can be a good thing." Tucker shivered. "We need to call Danny and warn him."

Sam nodded, her eyes worried. "I'll call him. You find out more information."

After she left, Tucker picked at his PDA and sighed. Danny was in big trouble this time. _Danny can't stand that guy. He was really messed up from being controlled like that – he's never really gotten over it. I can still see it in his eyes every once-and-a-while when he looks at Sam. The idea that he almost killed her…_ He shook his head, opening up a new window and getting to work.

"Her brother runs the Circus Gothica," he muttered darkly as he typed. "_Freakshow_."

* * *

"Dad? Is Danny down there?" Jazz called down the stairs.

"No," he shouted back. Distantly he heard Jazz talking to someone on the phone, explaining that Danny wasn't there. Jack dropped into a chair in the kitchen, rubbing his chin. He picked up a piece of fudge – a German chocolate variety with small, toasted peanuts – and got ready to _think_.

He always thought best with fudge, and Danny's weird behavior earlier today gave him plenty to contemplate. He wasn't _that_ dense. He did notice, eventually, when his son didn't come back from the bathroom. So what if it had taken nearly an hour? And he _had_ felt the tension when Jessica Oscura and his son were talking. Reaching across the table like that to break that odd undercurrent hadn't been an accident.

_Where is Danny anyway?_ "Have you seen Danny?" he asked Jazz as she walked into the kitchen..

She shook her head, then stopped, looking at him oddly. She did that quite a bit recently. "He's probably over at Tucker's still."

He raised an eyebrow. "Then who was on the phone, Jazz?"

"Um…" she hesitated, "just someone from school." Jazz hurried out of the room.

Jack half-closed his eyes. _I wish I wasn't too old to roll my eyes. This would be the perfect situation_. He grinned to himself. _Jazz has never been able to lie_.

He bit into his fudge, thoughts churning in his brain. He stared at the box of inventions that still sat on the kitchen table where he had dropped it. _Danny was supposed to clean that up._ _Where is he?_

Finished off his piece of fudge, he brushed a few crumbs off of his jumpsuit, and stood up. He grabbed the keys to the Fenton RV. _I'm going to go find him_.

He really had no reason to. Danny could take care of himself. There were two more hours until curfew.

But he was going to go find him anyway.

**_To be continued…_**


	7. Flashback: Jack and Sam

_The light can hide even the dingiest evil if you let it._

* * *

**Light**  
A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

* * *

Chapter 7: _Flashback_

_Jack and Sam_

* * *

Jack stopped the Fenton Family Ghost Assault Vehicle by the side of the road next to the park about an hour later. "Oh, who am I kidding?" he muttered. "I won't be able to find Danny on my own. He's fine. He's probably even home by now." He sighed, putting the car into park and yanking the keys out. "I need to take a walk to clear my head."

As he crunched up the path, Jack's mind wandered, but it kept coming back to Danny and the fact that he hadn't come home for supper. Not that it was an uncommon circumstance… but for some reason it was really bugging him tonight. _I hate this. Too many thoughts. _Jack shook his head hard, throwing himself onto one of the park benches and staring up at the sky. The stars were starting to come out.

A green streak flew through the air over his head, followed by a lean figure dressed in black and silver with shocking white hair and green eyes. "The ghost kid," Jack whispered, following his path with his eyes. "I wonder who he's fighting."

He glanced back at the GAV, thinking about grabbing more weapons, but then decided against it. He would lose the ghost kid if he waited. The small ecto-rifle attached to his jumpsuit would have to do.

Racing up the trail, he followed the flashing green lights of the spectral battle. Slowing down near the edge of the clearing, he hesitated. _One small ecto-rifle isn't going to stand a chance against two ghosts._ He held still, the flaring lights tempting him to get closer to see what was going on. _I'll just hide in the bushes until the ghost kid finishes off the other ghost, then I can take him._ Grinning at his plan, he yanked out his ecto-rifle and crept into the bushes. _Me! World renowned Jack Fenton! I'll catch the ghost kid!_

Peering out into the clearing from the safety of the shadows, Jack's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. That odd lady from this morning – the one from the brunch – was in the clearing, hovering easily above the ground on a jet sled. It whined quietly, just like that Red Huntress's sled, sending visible waves of hot air boiling against the grass. She had a rather large gun positioned over her shoulder, pointing it lazily in the direction of the ghost kid.

"Go away and leave my home alone!" the ghost ordered, his eyes glowing brightly in the near-dark. He clenched his fingers in a tight fist and energy crackled around him.

"I don't want your _home_," the lady sneered, her voice easily audible over the whine of her jet sled. "I want _you_. And your mother."

"Mom?" The ghost looked startled for a moment before glaring at her. "You can't have her. She's mine."

Jack shook his head from the bushes. _Ghosts don't have mothers – not even this one. What are they talking about?_

The lady laughed, her throaty chuckle echoing around the park and making a shiver run down Jack's back. When she stopped, nothing in the park was moving. The crickets had stopped chirping, the frogs had stopped calling, and nothing rustled expect for the wind through the trees. "You can have what's left of her when I'm done with her."

Energy visibly flared around the young ghost. "What do you want with her?" he snarled. Jack blinked, he'd never seen the ghost acting so angry. Usually the ghost kid was more playful and sarcastic then truly furious.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she asked, taking a pot shot at the ghost with her cannon.

Dodging easily, the ghost formed an ecto-blast in his hand, but he didn't fire it. He held it in his hands, biting his lip, apparently thinking. _I was right! _Jack thought, smiling, _the ghost kid doesn't like to shoot humans. I can use that…_

"Yes, I'd love to know. Why don't you spill all your evil plans?"

"My _evil_ plans?" the lady mocked. "My plans are never _evil_, ghost-child. They are _destiny_." She gestured grandly with her free hand.

"Destiny?" the ghost prompted.

"Enough," she hissed sourly, waving her hand up and above her head. Instantly a dozen spotlights appeared and centered on the ghost, who was forced to drop the charged ecto-blast to shield his eyes from the impossibly bright light. "You are coming with me."

Jack flinched in surprise when a half-dozen men jumped out of the bushes of the clearing, all of them leveling high-tech guns at the blinded ghost. The kid never stood a chance when all of them began to shoot. Yelping in pain, the ghost fell to the ground only beginning to struggle when the men moved in to surround him.

It took only a few seconds and the men were backing away, their guns still pointing in the kid's direction. The ghost was now sporting thick manacles on his wrists and ankles and was being roughly dragged to his feet by one of the men. Green ectoplasm dripped out of the multiple cuts on the kid's face and body, his supernatural eyes still closed against the brilliant spotlights.

Jack felt a stab of pity in his stomach. The ghost looked so small and powerless, a hapless teenager caught in something he couldn't handle. Besides… he looked so much like his son just then…

The lady suddenly shot the ghost again. Screaming and falling to his knees, the ghost twitched, fighting against the odd reddish light that was surrounding him. When it faded away, he was left panting, his head hanging. The lady laughed again, coming forwards to grab the kid by the chin. Hauling his head up to stare at him, she smiled when he managed to crack his eyes open for a moment. "You are unique, boy. A hybrid – a child of both worlds. A bridge between the realms. A once in a lifetime opportunity."

Silvering slightly, Jack watched the malevolent grin spreading across her face. There was no compassion in her expression. "That last shot," she continued, "will keep you a ghost until the full moon." The grin grew as the desperation in the ghost's face became more pronounced. "You like it? It's a modification of a small device I _borrowed_ from a certain friend of yours."

As she turned to walk away, the ghost spoke up, his voice hoarse and drained. "Why until the full moon?"

She laughed. "Why, I can't sacrifice you _before_ the full moon." With that, the men dragged the nearly-unconscious ghost kid away, the lady following on her jet sled.

Jack, however, just sat in the bushes, going over what he had heard in his mind. It took him nearly a half-hour before he managed to drag himself out of the bushes and back to the GAV, all thoughts of searching for his son out of his head.

_Sacrifice?_ he wondered as he drove home. _Who is this ghost kid? Why would she need to _keep_ him a ghost? Isn't he one all the time? What's a hybrid?_

He wandered into the house, his mind a million miles away. He slumped onto the couch and picked up a random ghost device from the living room table. A small part of his mind knew that it was the next-generation ghost tracker, but he just stared blankly at it. He didn't even acknowledge Jazz when she came into the room and turned on the TV.

"Jazz, have you seen Danny?" Maddie asked, coming into the living room.

"Oh… he called and said he was staying over at Tucker's. I forgot to tell you." Jazz smiled that odd smile at her mother.

Maddie smiled and nodded, going back into the kitchen.

But Jack just continued to sit on the couch, staring at the invention in his hands, thoughts fluttering through his brain like butterflies. _Jazz is a horrible liar… why would she lie about where Danny is? Why do I care about the ghost boy at all? How can he have a mother? What sacrifice? Why do I get shivers up my back when I think of Jessica Oscura? _

And, cutting through all of them: _Where is Danny?_

* * *

Monday morning found Sam sitting at her desk, staring dismally at the chair that belonged to one Daniel Fenton. It was an empty chair. As in, Danny wasn't in it. Which meant that Danny wasn't currently in school. This thought inevitably brought up the question of where Danny might actually be. Which lead to the answer that she most despised: she had no idea.

Sam snarled softly, turning her attention back to the teacher that was droning away in the front of the room. Last night, Danny had seemed to drop off the radar. According to Jazz, he hadn't been home when she went to bed and he wasn't there when she got up. Danny _could_ be off fighting ghosts – this was Jazz's favorite theory – but Sam thought otherwise. _He wouldn't be gone this long if he was. He would have told us._

She glanced over at Tucker, who was staring at the classroom door, as if waiting for Danny to walk in. He shot her a look. "He's fine," Tucker mouthed.

Sam snorted. _Unlikely_, her mind said. Especially after what she and Tucker had managed to dig up about Jessica Oscura last night. She tuned out the teacher and scanned the printouts one more time.

Jessica Oscura was the only sister to one Frederik Issak Showenhower (better known as Freakshow) - a maniac Gothic circus ring leader that was obsessed with all things ghosts. He had even possessed an old family heirloom that allowed him to control the dead. Even though the crystal had been smashed, Freakshow still gave Danny the creeps. Danny refused to talk about it, but Sam knew that he was still having problems dealing with what had happened. If Freakshow was in the picture it was going to be bad news.

On the fortunate side, the insane circus man was still locked away with the Guys In White. Tucker had double-checked last night and had even managed to hack into the surveillance system to get a picture of him sitting in a cell. Even better, Jessica Oscura had checked out of her hotel earlier that day – she wasn't even in Amity Park anymore.

She dropped the papers onto her desk and sighed, slumping down in her seat. When she had left Tucker's last night – after calling Jazz one last time and getting reassurances that Danny was just out fighting some stupid ghost and would be home soon – Tucker had still been typing away on his computer. Tucker had smiled at her, saying cheerily that he'd see them _both_ in the morning.

Only Danny hadn't shown up to walk her to school… but that wasn't that strange. And she hadn't seen him at school that morning… but that wasn't too odd either. And Danny was now late for class. Sam shifted in her chair, crossing her arms and letting her eyes stray back to Danny's empty chair. That wasn't an uncommon event also. But still…

Sam sighed, her attention wandering over to Tucker. He was still gazing at the door, but now he had a piece of paper clenched in his hands. It looked like a piece of computer paper that had been folded into a small square. Tucker picked it up, fiddled with it, tapped his chin with a corner, and then set it down. Every few minutes he would repeat this little scene. Sam rolled her eyes, a small smile creeping onto her lips. He didn't seem to be aware he was doing it.

_He's worried_… Sam decided, her smile vanishing, her eyes straying back to the door, which remained stubbornly closed and Danny-less. _And he's hiding something._

**_To be continued…_**


	8. Flashback: Tucker, Sam, Jazz, and Jack

_Basking in the light isn't always a good thing._

* * *

**Light**  
A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

* * *

Chapter 8: _Flashback_

_Tucker, Sam, Jazz, and Jack_

* * *

Tucker sighed as he sank into the chair for his fourth-period biology class. For the first time, he was thankful that Sam had refused to take the class with him and Danny. He didn't think he could take another period of sitting next to her. Sam was slowly working herself into a frenzy worrying about Danny. Which, in turn, was quickly wearing on his nerves.

_And she doesn't even know everything…_

Flinching away from the thought, he caught himself idly flipping the folded paper around again. He forced himself to set the paper down and stop fidgeting. Instead, he rubbed his stinging eyes and stifled a yawn.

One of the things he was keeping secret from Sam was the fact that he hadn't gotten a moment of sleep last night. After she'd left, he'd stayed up late into the night monitoring the bots crawling around the internet. It had taken until nearly three o'clock in the morning for them to send back something interesting.

He picked the paper back up and stared down at it. _This_ is what they came back with, and he'd been unsuccessfully trying to get it out of his head since. This little piece of paper had kept him from getting any sleep.

Ignoring the teacher, he slowly unfolded the paper and stared down at the words scrawled across the paper. It was a photograph of something extremely old, the words barely legible. It had taken over an hour of working with his media tools to make out what it said.

_Beholdeth ye whom command the dead,  
__Shrink not from thee, thy do not dread,  
__The time of __**Moon**__ shall seal thee fast,  
__Make __**Light**__ thy destiny of past.  
__Out of __**Shadows**__ whence thy come,  
__And from __**Darkness**__ powers will thrum,  
__When a sacrifice thy hast Create,  
__Of a child bound through __**Fate  
**__To live a life touched by Death,  
__Whose Afterlife is marred by __**Breath  
**__Upon the Sacred Grounds it dies,  
__And hidden therein thy __**Future**__ lies._

Next to the ancient poem – which sent chills down Tucker's back every time he read it – were two crossed symbols. One was of an odd-looking, black pendant on a chain. The other, which crossed the chain at an angle, was a very familiar-looking staff. Glowing crystal ball surrounded by black bats… Freakshow's staff. The same staff that had been used to control Danny a few months ago.

It had been the image of the staff that had led him to the webpage. It'd been a bit of a gamble to program that into the image search, but it had paid off. He had… _something_. He wasn't too sure what it was, but it was definitely _something_.

Of course, Freakshow's staff was broken into a million little pieces. Danny had dropped it off a cliff when he was saving Sam, and Tucker had gone back a few days later to pick up the pieces. They were buried under his bed in a shoebox with all the rest of his ghost stuff. Freakshow himself was locked up in a nice, little cell.

That only left the weird pendant. And Freakshow's sister. And the fact that the full moon was coming up. And the knowledge that Danny's doom sense had been going off. And the fact that Danny was MIA. And…

Tucker couldn't help but figure there was _some_ connection between them.

He sighed, glancing up again at the door. Still no Danny.

Folding the paper back up into its small square, he tapped it worriedly against his chin. A vision of Sam fluttered through his head as the teacher began passing out today's biology experiment. _Really, I've got no proof that this had anything to do with Danny_, he tried to convince himself. He started in surprise when a tray with a mushroom dropped onto his table.

Reaching over to pick apart the mushroom, he let his thoughts drift. Poor Sam, she was like his sister, and she had been practically chewing her fingernails third period. He hated to see her like this. She was slowly, but surely, going crazy trying to figure out where Danny was.

Pulling the cap off the stem, he dropped it onto the tray, staring down at the mushroom stem in his fingers. _I don't want to be here. I want to be…_ He trailed off, his eyes blurring as he just stared at the mushroom. _I don't know where I want to be. Just not here doing this. _

A blink brought the mushroom – and the folded paper – back into focus. _So what do I do next? Do I show that poem-thing to Sam? _He glanced at the clock, watching it tick the seconds away until lunch. _Do I wait and see if Danny shows up later? I don't want her to worry even more…_

"When a sacrifice thy hast create, of a child bound through fate," he muttered darkly, tossing the mushroom back into the tray. He was going to fail whatever they were supposed to be doing, but he couldn't bring himself to care. _Sacrifice… Danny…_

_But really, I've got no proof…_ He wrinkled his nose, his eyes trailing over to the window. _If she knows this she'll just be up all night worrying_. He hesitated, rethinking that. _Okay, m__ore likely: she'll drag out every weapon the Fenton's have ever created and start pulling the town apart, brick-by-brick, looking for him_.

He snickered softly at that thought before dropping the paper into his bag. _I'm not going to tell her yet_. He rubbed his arm, already feeling the pains of the future beating he was going to get when she found out he knew and was hiding this from him.

_I'll tell her when I find some proof… she doesn't need to worry… or destroy the town…_

Tucker dropped his head down to his desk. _There is no way for this to end well._

* * *

His plan to not tell her worked for eleven minutes and twenty-three seconds – not that he was timing it or anything. The second he stepped foot into the lunchroom, Sam jumped him, pinning him against the wall and glaring at him. Her eyes, fiery amethyst, were inches from his. "You're hiding something from me and I want to know what it is."

Tucker squirmed under her gaze. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he lied, trying to settle his backpack so it wasn't digging so painfully into his spine.

"Tucker. David. Foley." Her words were separated by long periods of silence. "Don't lie to me."

He winced. "Alright, I give up. It was a bad plan."

"Tell," she snapped, not moving a muscle.

"Could you move please?" His back was really starting to hurt.

Sam's smile was feral. "Tell."

"It's in my backpack. I can't get it unless I move."

She blinked, her mind processing that. "That paper you've been playing with all day. That's it, right?"

Nodding, Tucker smiled a bit when Sam drew away from him. He dug through his backpack and pulled the crinkled paper out, handing it over.

"Why were you hiding it from me?" Sam snatched the paper. Her fingers closed protectively around its contents, almost like it held the answers to all of life's problems.

Tucker hesitated, glancing around. "Ididn'twantyoutoworry," he blurted.

"What?" Her purple eyes narrowed.

"I didn't want you to worry. Really, there's no proof…" he trailed off, his eyes watching her carefully.

Even though he saw it coming, he wasn't prepared for the punch that knocked him to the ground. "Danny's missing and you're _hiding_ things from me?" Sam snarled, turned on her heel, and stormed away, other students carefully keeping out of her path.

"Darn it," Tucker whispered, rubbing his stomach and getting slowly to his feet. His eyes were a mass of worry. "Danny's gone and Sam's going to kill herself at this rate."

He closed his eyes and bowed his head for a moment. "What do I do?" he asked the world in general. As usual, nobody answered.

* * *

Sam leaned against the flag pole, her eyes fixed on a cloud floating in the sky. She took at deep shuddering breath. A piece of paper with an odd prophecy and an even weirder picture fluttered out of her fingers. She didn't bother to pick it up.

* * *

After school, Jazz hung around the doors, waiting for Sam and Tucker. _And Danny_, she whispered to herself. _Danny's fine_.

When Tucker strode out of the school by himself, his mind obviously elsewhere, Jazz fell into step beside him. "Tucker?"

The boy jumped when Jazz mentioned his name. He stared at her, his eyes worried.

"Where's Sam?" _And Danny_, she added.

"Haven't seen her since lunch," he muttered, rubbing his stomach.

Jazz walked with him a few more minutes in silence. "Have you seen…"

"No," Tucker interrupted.

"Do you know where…"

"No." This time his voice was harsh and angry. Tucker glanced into her eyes, an odd light shining in them. Then he picked up the pace and got ahead of her. "I've got a lot of stuff to do, Jazz." He looked over his shoulder. "I'm sure Danny's fine." He smiled.

_Liar,_ Jazz whispered in her mind. "Call me if you figure anything out," she said softly.

Tucker nodded once before leaving her behind. _He's probably heading over to Sam's house_, she thought. Not for the first time, she felt out of the loop.

Jazz meandered home. Their short conversation had told her a few things. One: Tucker and Sam knew more than they were telling her. Two: if Sam was skipping school, whatever it was they knew wasn't good. Three: they weren't entirely sure what was going on… they would have told her.

Oh, and four: Danny wasn't going to be home when she got there.

* * *

Jack, who was sitting in his son's hospital room over three weeks later, scratched his chin, still thinking over those first few horrible days. Maddie had filed a police report Monday night and then was kidnapped nearly a week later. Three days after that she was rescued. Then four days later, Danny was found. Now, his son had been unconscious for another week.

He closed his eyes and, for the first time since that awful Sunday, a tear trickled down his cheek. He stood up, going over to stare down at Danny. His mysterious, brave, and powerful son.

"Wake up, Danny," he said, as if his voice alone would wake his son up.

"Why don't you wake up?"

**_To be continued…_**


	9. Thoughts: Tucker and Jazz

_Lights come in many colors._

* * *

**Light  
**A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

* * *

Chapter 9: Thoughts

_Tucker and Jazz_

* * *

_Danny had never been so still._

Tucker fiddled with the PDA in his pocket as he stood at the door to his best friend's hospital room. Hazel eyes flickered from the wire-encased boy to the large man sitting in the chair. He bit his lip, taking in the dazed expression in the man's eyes.

Taking a step into the room, he glanced warily at the beeping monitors, dripping IV solutions, and flashing lights. The smell of the various cleaning solutions stung his nose, not quite masking the smell of old, sick, and dying people. Overhead lights buzzed and gave everybody a sickly pallor. Dropping into a chair next to the man in orange, he tried to push the _hospital-ness_ out of his mind.

_Beep, beep, beep_…

Tucker cleared his throat loudly, hoping the man would look over at him.

No response.

He coughed a bit louder, being careful not to breathe through his nose. The thick taste of the disinfectants was making his tongue burn – he didn't need to smell it too. The large man didn't seem to notice his existence. Furrowing his eyebrows, Tucker reached over and tapped the man's arm. "Mr. Fenton?" he asked.

Still nothing. The man just sat there and stared in the direction of his son.

Tucker flinched away from a light that flickered in the corner of his eye. He jerked his head around, eyes wide, but the light was already gone. _Clam down, Tucker, you're fine. It's just a stupid light._ Taking a deep breath to slow his racing heart, then coughing from the contaminated hospital air, he leaned forwards in his chair and tapped his heel apprehensively against the ground.

_Come on, think of something. _Listening to the infernal beeping of the various monitors and the persistent buzz of the lights was throwing off his brain. _How anybody gets anything done in all this noise and stink is beyond me._

Unable to come up with a better solution, he stood up and moved between Danny and Mr. Fenton. "Excuse me?" he asked loudly, staring into the man's eyes.

Mr. Fenton blinked once, but otherwise didn't move. From here, Tucker could tell that the man's eyes weren't actually focused on Danny – he was gazing out into space. A nurse walked by, one of the wheels on her cart squeaking and setting every one of Tucker's nerves on edge.

_Okay, that's it. I'm getting out of here. _"I don't know if you're listening or not," he started, "but I've got this theory about Danny." He shifted from foot to foot, waiting. "Mr. Fenton?"

The man just continued to sit there, blinking absently, the muscles in his face lax and expressionless.

"You know how Danny is half human and half ghost?" He didn't bother to wait for a response. "Well, the way I figure it is that we've fixed the human half of him," he gestured at the demonic equipment in the hospital room, "but what about the ghost half? I mean, we don't know most of what happened to him… but from what Mrs. F. said, she know that his ghost half got ripped apart really badly. Maybe it's sick too. Maybe that's what's keeping from waking up."

Mr. Fenton showed no signs of having heard him. Tucker sighed, glancing back around the room. Flashing lights, high-pitched beepings, distant drippings and buzzings, and the impossible smell of the room was getting to him. His heart was beating rapidly, his imagination supplying his brain with images of torture and death.

_Fight or flight indeed,_ he thought sourly, digging his fingernails into his palms to prevent himself from walking around the check and make sure there wasn't some dead guy stuffed in the closet or an insane doctor hiding on the other side of Danny's bed. "That's what I think, anyway," he said through clenched teeth, forcing himself to ignore the room. "I don't know how to fix a ghost in a coma, but I'll work on it."

Barely preventing himself from dashing out the room, he paused at the door. "Maybe he needs a ghost hospital, huh?" he laughed softly, letting himself out of the room.

Moving as quickly as possible without actually breaking into a run, he started towards the front door, fighting the growing panic that was enveloping his mind. Who knew what was behind the closed doors he passed? The rooms were where people lay, dying and sick, unable to escape the horror of the hospital.

It wasn't until he was safely outside, leaning against a tree and forcing his breathing back into a normal rhythm, that he began to think properly again. With one last glance at the hospital that had ensnared his best friend, Tucker headed home to dig through the internet again.

Left alone in the hospital room, the silent father and son were lost in their own little worlds. Amidst the beepings and the drippings of the assorted medical equipment, Mr. Fenton finally closed his eyes. "Ghost hospitals?" he whispered into the disinfected air. "Is there such a thing?"

* * *

Jazz wrinkled her nose and tossed the book back onto the kitchen table. "No!" she screamed. "No! No! No!"

She stared at the collection of books on the table. They were stacked up until she couldn't see over them anymore. "Every last one of my parent's books. Nothing!" She seethed to herself, muttering angrily. "Books have never failed me before. And they will not today. There is a solution. There needs to be."

"Um… Jazz?" came a voice from behind her.

Jazz whirled around, snarling. "What?"

Sam winced, quickly taking in Jazz's blood-shot eyes, tangled hair, and clenched fists. "Tucker went over to the hospital to talk to your dad…"

"And…" Jazz fumed.

The Goth blinked. "And I came over to talk to you… but if you're that mad at me…" She trailed off.

Jazz closed her eyes and tried to relax. "I'm not mad at you Sam. You're just an easier target than what I really am mad at."

"Oh."

She tried to smile. "Did you guys come up with something?"

"Yeah." Sam smiled at her, then walked over and starting sorting through some of the books on the kitchen table. "We think that Danny's human half is being cured, but not his ghost half."

Jazz fought to not roll her eyes. _Duh, _she hissed in her mind_, I figured that out this morning_. "Anything else?" she asked, surprised to hear it come out much more pleasantly than expected.

Sam shook her head.

Closing her eyes again, Jazz gritted her teeth. _I'm not mad at Sam_, she said mantra-style, _I'm frustrated at my lack of knowledge. I'm frustrated by not getting the answers. I'm worried about my brother. I'm scared for his safety. I'm NOT mad at Sam_. "I'm not getting anywhere either."

The younger girl picked up a book. "You sure there's nothing in here?"

Jazz wrestled with the desire to snap at her. "Yes," she finally hissed. "I'm sure."

"Then we need to go get a different book."

"There are no other books." Jazz pulled out a chair and sat in it, rubbing her temples. "My parents own every single book written by reputable authors who actually know something about ghosts. Every book."

Sam was silent a moment. "Reputable authors?" she asked finally.

"Please don't go into your usual rant about who reputable authors are and where to find good information…" Jazz trailed off.

"No, I meant what do you mean by reputable authors?"

"Huh?" Jazz looked her, her forehead furrowed. "People who know what they are talking about. You know… researchers." _Where is she going with this?_

"People?" Hesitating, a grin grew on Sam's face. "As in humans?"

"Yeah," Jazz snapped. "As in who else?"

Sam laughed slightly. "If you want to cure a human, you go to a book written by a human, right?" She shut the book she was flipping through and set it carefully back on top of the teetering pile on the edge of the table. "So… thought follows through that if you want to cure a ghost, you go find a book written by…" she raised an eyebrow, waiting for Jazz to fill in the rest.

"A ghost? What ghost writes books?"

Sam grinned, her violet eyes twinkling. "The Ghost Writer."

* * *

Lounging on the hard cot in her cell with the _Amity Park Gazette_ unfolded in front of her, Jessica Oscura laughed softly. She scanned an article about the Fenton boy, snickering when she reached his current health status. "He's still not awake, huh?" she whispered. "Well, of course not."

She bit her lip, wondering for a second. "The kid was stronger than I thought." Suddenly, her eyes blazed with anger. "I need my pendant back," she snapped and ripped the paper in half. "I need to _know_ if it worked!"

"Guard!" she shrieked, lunging to her feet. "Guard!"

"What?" the man asked from his chair.

Jessica Oscura put on her best smile and proceeded to try and win back her pendant.

**_To be continued…_**


	10. Ghost Writer: Sam and Tucker

_Lights come so in many pretty colors._

* * *

**Light**  
A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

* * *

Chapter 10: Ghost Writer

_Sam and Tucker_

* * *

"Have I said this is a bad idea?"

Sam's fingers curled tightly around the Specter Speeder's steering wheel, grinding her teeth. "Yes," she hissed at the boy tapping away on his PDA, "I happened to have heard you seven times ago."

"It's just that you never stop. So here I am, left wondering if I actually said it out loud." His voice was calm and collected, but he had a twinkle in his eye.

"Yes," she said tightly, "it's a bad idea, Tucker. Do you have a better one?"

Tucker glanced up to smile sweetly at her. "What, a better idea than three teenage humans traveling, alone, into the Ghost Zone in search of a ghost that we have never met and isn't going to want to help us? How could I possibly come up with an idea that is better than that?"

Sam raised an eyebrow, not taking her eyes off the supernatural field of view through the windshield. A green-pink door nearly clipped their left wing and Sam had to send the Specter Speeder into a barrel roll to avoid a blue door that appeared in front of them.

Dropping into an area that seemed to be devoid of doors, Sam grinned over her shoulder. "Did you have a better idea Jazz?"

The frazzled teenager in the backseat gaped at her. "What?" Jazz sputtered, her fingers digging deep trenches in the seat cushions, her hair tangled and messed from the half-dozen spins, loops, and rolls Sam had already put the vehicle through.

Tucker leaned back in his seat, the PDA beeping contentedly as he tapped at his latest game. "Her plan? Did you have a better one?"

Still blinking in disbelief, Jazz shook her head shakily, wincing as a pair of French doors missed the speeder with inches to spare. "Could you slow down a bit?"

"Why?" Sam asked. An almost evil grin spread across her features.

"You're going to kill us!"

"Unlikely," Tucker snorted.

Laughing, Sam turned the nose of the speeder directly at the next door. "Watch Jazz, this is kind of neat." Then she glanced over her shoulder to watch the older girl's expression.

"SAM!" Jazz squeaked just before the Specter Speeder crashed headlong… through the door. Jazz was staring at them in complete confusion, randomly reaching up to touch her arms and legs to make sure she was still real.

Sam chuckled. "In the Ghost Zone, we're the ghosts. We can just phase through stuff."

Jazz was silentfor a very long few seconds, her mouth moving wordlessly. "Do you think the ghost will help us?"

"Nope," Sam and Tucker replied.

Relaxing in the silence, Sam flew the speeder into the depths of the Ghost Zone. _I hope he can help us, _she sighed, _he really is our only option at this point. I don't know what I'd do if Danny…_

"You know where you're going?" Jazz interrupted, tapping Sam on the shoulder.

"I know where _I'm_ going," Tucker muttered. Holding out his PDA, he showed the redhead the greenish display. "I digitized Danny's map of the Ghost Zone. See? The blue dot is us and the red dot is where we're heading."

Sam shook her head sourly. "We're using _Danny's _map? He gets lost on the way to school."

"Yeah," the boy shot back, "but do we have any _other_ maps? Why don't you get out _your_ map. Wait! I know. Let's find a magical map of the ghost zone that can take us wherever we want to go. How does _that_ sound?"

"Perfect," Sam quipped. "Where can we find one?"

Although he had his mouth open to reply, Tucker paused when Jazz laughed softly. Sam shot her a glance. The girl seemed to have calmed down a lot from her 'near-death' scare, but her hair was still mussed and knotted. "What's so funny?" she asked.

"You two," she smiled. "You sound so… normal."

Sam traded a look with Tucker. She raised one skeptical eyebrow. "Normal?"

"Normal." Jazz laughed again. "Your best friend, who is a half-dead superhero, is lying unconscious in a hospital. We're in another dimension – where we're the ghosts by the way – heading to ask some long-dead author for some help which we may not receive. And here you are talking about magical maps…" she dissolved into a helpless chuckle. "And yet you still sound normal."

Sam sent her a small smile. "That's the life of superhero sidekicks."

"You know," Tucker interjected, "Danny'll kill you when he finds out you've been calling him a superhero behind his back."

Smiling to herself, Sam focused on driving. Reflected in the window, she could see Tucker hunch back over his PDA and Jazz take a book out of her backpack and flip it open.

Doors flew by. Little ones, big ones, colorful ones, decorated ones… on and on the parade of endless portals passed by like a high-speed parade. Sam was stifling a yawn as she directed the small vehicle over an odd grouping of ancient-looking doors.

Tucker's PDA gave an especially loud _BEEP_. He looked up as they cleared the last of the doors. "We're here," he said softly.

Coming into view, the large, Roman-style building soared over them. Columns a dozen feet wide leapt into the air from impossibly wide steps. An ancient, white-washed belfry towered over them, complete with a ghostly tolling bell, fluttering bats, and deep shadows. Sam brought the Specter Speeder to a stop, gazing silently at the cobweb-covered door. A shiver ran through her as the foreboding feeling of the haunted library surrounded her.

For a few precious seconds, nobody dared to move. Sam opened her mouth to speak, but found herself unable to make any noise. The whole area was seeped in the feel of an ancient library – silent, slow, timeless, and full of knowledge.

"You sure this ghost will help us?" Jazz whispered, unbuckling her seat belt. The sound of the metal buckle was muffled in the thick air.

Tucker nodded slowly, a frown on his face. "He will." His voice was soft, but Sam noticed that he couldn't drag his eyes off the building.

A man's voice echoed through the quiet of the speeder. "No, he won't."

Sam whirled around. Standing in the back, arms crossed and an angry look on his face, was the ghost they had been searching for.

* * *

Tucker stared at the ghost floating in the back of the Specter Speeder. The Ghost Writer stared at them over the tops of his glasses, arms folded, an angry expression on his face. "Give me just _one_ good reason to help you," the ghost hissed.

"Um…" he hesitated

Jazz spoke up. "Do you have any idea what kind of help we need?"

"No," the ghost said sourly, "but then again, I'm not usually in the mood to assist anybody with anything."

Tucker licked his lips, settling back in his chair. Danny had said a few times that the Ghost Writer wasn't an _evil_ ghost but that he sure wasn't a _nice_ ghost. But the dead author was giving off an aura that made the hairs on the back of Tucker's neck stand up and a chilly feeling crept into the heated interior of the speeder.

"My brother is sick," Jazz continued, "and we're looking for information to help him."

"Why should I care about some human?" the ghost scoffed, narrowing his eyes. The temperature of the vehicle plummeted a few more degrees.

"She's talking about Danny Phantom," Sam added. "He said you had a lot of books – that you knew things." She hesitated, but didn't back down. "He said that you were okay for a ghost."

"I still don't know why I should help you." Tucker watched as a small smile flickered across the ghost's face. "But, perhaps, we can come to an agreement."

"An agreement?" Sam said. "What kind of agreement?"

Nodding his head, the ghost's smile grew. "I collect stories. You tell me a story that I have never heard before, I'll let you into my library to search for… whatever you wanted to know."

"That's it?" Jazz asked.

Tucker glanced at her, furrowing his eyebrows. _Tell a story he's never heard before? Doesn't this ghost own every story ever written? How are you going to come up with one?_

The ghost nodded again, crossing his legs and settling in the air like he was sitting onto a chair. "One story in return for your brother's life."

"Alright…" Jazz started, but the Ghost Writer cut her off.

"No, not you." One spectral finger pointed in Tucker's direction. "Him. I want you to tell me a story. With no help."

Gulping, Tucker shook his head slowly. "I don't tell stories."

"It's up to you." The ghost waited, fiddling his fingers in his lap, supernatural eyes trained on Tucker's hazel ones.

"Fine," he said sourly, thinking quickly. _What kind of story has this guy never heard before? He's had to have heard all the normal ones – all the ones I'd know. Or, maybe I could tell him a story that's just happened. _Smile growing across his face, Tucker leaned forwards slightly. _A story that nobody knows. _"I'll tell you Danny's story."

An eyebrow quirked, but the ghost waited patiently.

As the teenager began to relate what he knew about the past three weeks, the Ghost Writer sat quietly, listening intently. At one point, when Tucker was telling about how Danny had 'died', the ghost actually had to wipe a tear off of his cheek. Tucker's voice grew quiet as he neared the end of his tale. "Danny was stuck in his coma, and no matter what the doctors or his family tried, he just lay there. A hero, doomed to die a slow death if nobody could save him. His friends came up with a stupid plan to try and save him – they flew into the Ghost Zone in the hopes of finding someone to help."

Silence fell and the two guys stared each other down, forgetting the girls for a moment. "Where's the end of the story?" the Ghost Writer asked.

"It hasn't been written yet. There's a ghost standing in the way," Tucker muttered.

The ghost bit his lip. "So here you are," the ghost said softly.

"So you'll help?" Tucker's heart beat quickly, waiting for the answer.

"Such a story deserves to be continued," the writer whispered slowly, nodding his head, "even if it's about halfas and humans."

**_To be continued..._**


	11. Libraries: Jazz and Sam

_The mystery begins to come to light_.

* * *

**Light**  
A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

* * *

Chapter 11: Libraries

_Jazz and Sam_

* * *

Jazz dropped into a chair in the Ghost Writer's library with a snarl. _I'm getting nowhere with this!_ For a moment, she stared around the room. The thousands of books, stacked nearly three stories high in places, were daunting. _An impossible task. _She opened up the latest book – a large, forest green tome – and started to peruse the first few pages in silence.

"There isn't anything in there," a quiet voice said behind her.

She glanced over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow at the spectral author. "How can you be so sure?"

He smiled, drifting over to pick up the book she had been holding. "This is _my_ library. A compendium of every book published in the Ghost Zone. I am the caretaker of the books." He carefully closed the book, sliding it back on the shelf. "That means I am the caretaker of all this knowledge."

"You know what's in _all_ these books?"

"Every one," he agreed. "It's rather elementary for me, dear Watson, as it's my entire existence. And I know there's nothing in that book that would help you."

Jazz's blue eyes flashed as she got to her feet, striding over to the shelf and removing a new book. She stared down at the gilded letters for a moment before turning away and beginning to flip idly through the pages. A chill feeling crept up her back as the ghost peered over her shoulder.

"There's nothing in that one either," he muttered.

She barely repressed a childish eye roll. _Well, why don't you just help me then?_ Instead of retorting, she merely closed the book and returned it, taking the next book down the line.

"Or _that_ one."

"Would you have a suggestion for a book to look in, then?" she said, fighting to keep the frustration out of her voice. "Or are you just going to float there and tell me where _not_ to look?"

The Ghost Writer looked almost sheepish as he picked a book off the shelf and paged through it. "All I can say to _that_ is that when you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever is left – no matter how improbable – must be what you are searching for." He floated across the room, apparently engrossed in the words.

"Fine," Jazz murmured, leaning against the bookshelf with her arms crossed. "Then why don't you leave me alone to look in peace?"

"As you wish," the ghost said softly, setting the book down on a small table next to him and drifting off through the far wall. "Just remember, there is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact."

Jazz closed her eyes and sighed. _What's with all the Doyle references? Oh, forget it. I've got to think about this logically. There has got to be some kind of system if this is a library._ _Maybe they are sorted by subject? Author? Title?_

With a groan, she grabbed another book and settled back down on the cold floor to read.

* * *

Hours later, Sam stuck her head into the room Jazz was looking through. Jazz was wandering disconsolately around the room, trailing her fingers over the hundreds and hundreds of books that were within her reach. Unwilling to completely give up, she would pick up a random book, glance at the title, and then stick it back onto the shelf.

"Jazz?" Sam whispered after a moment. "Are you getting anywhere?"

"No. How about you?"

The Goth shook her head, walking the rest of the way into the room and shutting the door behind her. "There have to be _millions_ of books in each room, and I stopped counting rooms an hour ago. How are we supposed to get through them _all_?"

"I don't think we are," Jazz replied, an odd tone to her voice. "This was a good idea, Sam, but I think it's a dead end."

Sam was silent, staring around the room. "There has got to be something…"

"There might be, but without _help_ we won't ever find it!"

Sam looked up at the fuming redhead, blinking in surprise. "Are you okay?"

"Of course I'm okay," Jazz snarled, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples with her fingers. "Why would I not be okay?"

"You sound… frustrated."

Sighing, the older girl snatched another book off the shelf and paged through it. "There's got to be some kind of system to this," she muttered, "if only I could find it. I've just got to think logically. I've just got to…"

Sam let her eyes slide over the titles of the books. _Spectral Snakes. How to Fly Widdershins Around a Haunt. 101 Ways to Fry an Egg. The Biography of Pariah Dark. The Compleat Atlas to the Lost Portal City of Atlantis…_

_They have nothing to do with each other. They're just randomly placed on the shelves._ She glanced around the room at the rainbow of colors that adorned each bookcase. "How do you think the Ghost Writer finds anything in here?"

"He knows where everything is." Jazz sounded distracted, four books piled in her arms. "He doesn't need to search."

Wrinkling her forehead, Sam continued to look around the room, a thought germinating in her mind. "Then how does he expect us to find what we're looking for?"

Jazz grabbed another book from the shelves before carrying all five books to one of the small, empty tables scattered around the room. "I don't think he does. He probably doesn't care."

"But he promised to help."

"No," Jazz shook her head, "he promised to let us into his library to look, not to help us search."

Sam chewed on her lip as the other girl scanned the first of her books. "But… he must know we're not going to leave until we find what we're looking for."

No answer.

_She's ignoring me._ Sam blew a bit of hair out of her eyes and walked across the room, studying the area carefully. _There's got to be something. The Ghost Writer doesn't want us here. He had to give us some sort of clue… some sort of hint…_

She let her fingers glide over the dust-free surface of one of the tables, then lightly skimmed the bookshelves. Empty table, bookshelf, empty table, bookshelf, empty table, bookshelf…

_Oh this is stupid. _"We're not in some kind of Sherlock Holmes story," she whispered.

"What?" Jazz asked.

"Nothing." _Don't be an idiot. The ghost isn't helping us. He's not leaving us 'clues' to find._ Empty table, bookshelf, empty table, bookshelf, empty… _Wait. A book? _"Why'd you leave this book out?"

"I didn't," Jazz said distractedly. "Ghost Writer did."

Sam snorted. "Right. You should have seen him when he came in to talk to me. I'd just been piling the books up after I went through them – he blew a gasket. Threatened to lock me in a story until I learned to respect books…" She trailed off, picking the book up. _So, why did he leave this out?_

"Maybe that's the one he's reading," Jazz murmured. "Is it Sherlock Holmes?"

Sam shot her a glance. "What?"

"He was making silly Arthur Conan Doyle references earlier. I figured he was reading the Holmes mysteries."

"No, it's not that." She trailed her fingers over the silver letters, sharp and shiny against the midnight blue cover. _A Complete Compendium, by… Hippocrates? Where did I hear that name before?_ "Jazz? Who was Hippocrates?"

"The Hippocratic Oath."

Sam jumped when Jazz suddenly appeared over her shoulder. Grinning, the redhead snatched the book out of Sam's fingers and started to eagerly flip through it. "The what?" Sam asked.

"The Hippocratic Oath. That's the oath doctor's take… Hippocrates was supposedly the father of medicine…" She wasn't really paying attention to what she was saying, engrossed in the book. Gasping, she looked up, a huge grin on her face. "This is all about healing _ghosts._ This is _exactly_ what I've been looking for! Where did you find it?"

"It was on the table." Sam took a few wary steps away from the excited teenager. "Why?"

"He _was_ giving us a hint! Holmes was famous for his powers of observation. He wanted me to look around the room!" Jazz's grin looked like it was about to split her face in two as she continued to scan the pages excitedly. "This has _got_ to be it."

Tucker slunk into the room, his glasses pushed low on his nose, an annoyed expression his face. "Idiot ghost won't even digitize his library," the boy muttered darkly as he walked over to them, "do you have any idea how much _easier_ this would be if we could just enter some terms into a search bot?"

Sam elbowed him, "Jazz thinks we found something."

"Really?"

Jazz nodded. "Ghost doctor… wrote a book…" Closing the book, she looked around. "Let's get out of here." She headed for the door, book under her arm, Sam and Tucker glancing at each other.

"You think Ghost Writer will let us out with one of his books?" Tucker grinned.

Sam shrugged her shoulders. "I doubt it, but I think he _really _wants us out of his library. He's the one that left it out on the table for us. Maybe if we promise to bring it back?"

Laughing, Tucker headed for the door. "Either way, lets stay well back from Jazz as she tries to carry the thing out the door… just in case."

**_To be continued..._**


	12. Energies: Jack

_Lights burn brightest at night._

* * *

**Light**  
A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

* * *

Chapter 12: Energies

_Jack_

* * *

_What the…_ Jack backed away from the portal just in time to keep from getting run over by the Specter Speeder when it burst through the portal. _Note to self: build incoming warning device for ghost portal_. He blinked at the three teenagers that were in the cockpit.

"Where have you been?" he asked, not even thinking about the fact that they wouldn't be able to hear him. Beyond the window, Tucker waved at him before turning and saying something to Jazz. The older girl looked up, then struggled out of her seatbelt and vanished from view.

"Dad!" Jazz shrieked, throwing open the door and racing to his side. "Look at this!"

"Where have you been?" he asked again, trying to be stern and parent-like. "With Danny in the hospital, now is not a good time to be off…"

"Dad," she interrupted. "We were trying to help Danny. Now – look at this!"

"What is it?"

"It's a book!" She opened it to a page that she had marked and shoved it in front of his nose. "Read this."

He narrowed his eyes, pushing the book a bit away so he could focus on the odd lines of text. The ancient book appeared to be handwritten, the slightly glowing scrawl hard to read at points.

_Specters are energie given forme. The more energie a specter possesses, the more stable its forme and the more active a specter can be. I tested this theorie upon an unsuspecting passerby a few days ago. Draining the creature of most of its energie, I watched in fascination as it fell into a sleep-like state, its forme even beginning to dissolve at one point._

Jack grabbed the book from his daughter's hands, gasping in surprise. "This is what happened to Danny!" He scanned it for a few moments, then looked up with narrowed eyes. "Where did you get this?"

"A ghost," Jazz said simply as Sam and Tucker slid out of the speeder. "But it doesn't matter, keep reading!"

"But…"

"No 'but's," Jazz hissed. "Read."

_I repeated the experiment on severale specters that wandered past my laire over the intervening days. All the creatures – from powerful to lame – underwent a similar process as their energie was removed, over differing time frames. First, they would fall into a state of sleep, then their forme would begin to fall apart. I can assume that most, if not all, of the inhabitants of this spectral realme would follow a similar set of steps._

"So that's what happened. Danny must have lost nearly all of his spectral energy. That's kind of what I had figured," Jack muttered, flipping the brittle page, ignoring the three teenagers that were crowding around him. "But how do you _fix_ it after he's been drained?"

_Unfortunately, a forme of ghostly council has interceded and has commanded that I returne the creatures to their original state. This was easy to accomplish. I merely had to returne the lost energie. A concoction of liquid spectral energie injected into straight into the body seems to work the most efficiently…_

Stopping reading, Jack just stared down at the book. "It can't be that easy," he whispered. "It just can't."

"What?" Jazz asked, wrinkling her forehead. "That's the answer, right? We can cure Danny?"

Jack shook his head dazedly. "It can't be _that easy_."

"What did it say?" Sam asked, dropping into a chair, her eyes worried. Tucker was still reading the page upside down, a frown on his face.

Not answering, Jack just kept reading, silently mouthing the words.

"Dad," Jazz hissed. "I read it, but what does it mean? You're the ghost expert – you _have_ to understand it. Tell us!"

"It means…" he hesitated, picking a slightly glowing vial of ectoplasm off of his messy desk. '_Returne the lost energie_.'

_But how? _

He stared at the small bit of glass for a few moments. '_…Liquid spectral energie…'_ He had sat by his son's side for hours and hours. He knew everything in that room, there had to be _something _that could help. Thinking over everything, from the beeping of the monitors to the steady dripping of the… "That's it."

* * *

Jack sat in the chair in the corner of the hospital room, his eyes heavy. _This needs to work…_ he thought to himself. He glanced over at Maddie. Fast asleep in the only other chair in the room, she had probably nodded off a few hours ago. He needed to get some sleep too, but someone needed to be awake. Just in case. Just in case this crazy plan of his worked.

He had slipped some ectoplasm into Danny's IV earlier that evening with the hope that the night shift nurses wouldn't notice the odd glow of the fluid. Maddie had, of course, noticed it right away and had demanded an explanation. Now it was just a waiting game. _Wait for Danny's ghost half to get better._ He sighed. _That just sounds so weird to be saying. _

Turning his gaze to his son, Jack smiled slightly. Danny's disheveled hair still hung down into his eyes despite Maddie's attempts to comb it. His hair had been a point of contention between the two of them for years. Maddie wanted it cut short. Danny wanted it longer. _Even unconscious, Danny is winning that battle_.

Jack allowed the grin to grow across his face. _Jazz is right. Danny'll pull through this_. He leaned the chair back, letting some of his bulk rest against the hospital wall. Ignoring the chair's protesting creaks, he closed his eyes.

The steady, soothing sounds of the hospital began to lull him into a half-asleep state. Listening to the light chatter and soft beeping of the equipment around him, he let his mind drift. At first, his mind flittered over the equipment in his lab – what needed to be done in the next few weeks, what to do the next time he was home, what projects needed to be scrapped – but his thoughts ultimately settled back down on his son.

_My son. _An image of Danny when he was five, covered in goo and racing around the house pretending to be a ghost, appeared in his mind. Chuckling softly at the memory, he let it fade away and a much more recent image appeared. Danny, glaring reproachfully at Jessica Oscura at the brunch they had gone to. That moment had been the last time he had seen his son outside of the hospital._ I saw him get captured too…_

That thought jarred his mind enough that his eyes snapped open. _I _let_ my son get captured._ He stared down at the back of his hands. _ I didn't know he was Danny… but I knew it was wrong. I should've stopped it._ Turning his hands over, he was unaware of the small tear that had formed in his eye. _Ghost or not, I should have stopped it. _

He looked up at Danny, blinking at how blurry everything looked. _I let my hatred of ghosts and my desire to destroy them get in the way of my family. _

_Never again,_ he vowed, his promise sealed by the sight of his child lying near death on the hospital bed. _Never again. _

"Danny," he whispered, "I'm sorry."

Closing his eyes, he dropped his head onto his hands, for the first time noticing the wetness on his cheek. He tried to picture his son accepting his apology, laughing with that shy grin of his and sending him a quiet eye-roll. But he couldn't. That's something _Danny_ would do… not this young hero that was lying on the bed before him.

_My Danny is clumsy, forgetful, shy, and quick to run away. This Danny is everything my son is not. Who is he really? _Jack folded his arms over his chest, leaned back in his chair, and sighed. He hated conundrums. _When did I lose my little boy and gain this young man? _

When he heard someone groan, his eyes shot open. "Danny?" he whispered. Sitting forward in his chair, he stared at his son, waiting, watching. The whole hospital seemed to be holding its breath, the clock stopping its timeless ticking, the fans pausing in their endless rotations. Danny's head rolled to the left and his forehead bunched up. Jack stood up slowly, his eyes never leaving Danny's face. "Danny?" he whispered again, a bit louder.

When Danny's head rolled over to the right, a very small smile appeared on Jack's face and he took a step forward. Butterflies were dancing in his stomach. He glanced over at Maddie. "Mads," he murmured, reaching out to shake her shoulder.

She shot awake. "Jack?" she asked softly, "What?"

"I think Danny's waking up," he replied. Maddie shot out of her chair, racing over to her son's side.

"Danny?" she said. She reached down and picked up his hand. Jack took a few steps closer, but hesitated at the last moment and stayed behind her.

Finally Danny's eyes flickered open. He stared dazedly into the eyes of his mother for a few moments before he licked his lips. "Mom?" he rasped.

Maddie burst into tears and wrapped Danny into a huge hug. Jack, still standing a few feet back, got a good look at Danny's surprised face sticking over her shoulder. After a second, Danny grinned and weakly wrapped his arms around her. He glanced up, spotted his father, and smiled at him. "Hey Dad."

Jack beamed back at his son. He had seen the flicker of life growing into those sleep-filled blue eyes. Better than that, he had seen _Danny _in those eyes. His Danny. His son. _Danny will be fine._ Jack pushed his doubts away for the moment and stepped up to the bed. He sat on the edge and wrapped his son and his wife into a big hug.

He doubted Maddie was going to let go for quite awhile. Jack was quite content with that. He wasn't planning on letting go either.

**_To be continued…_**


	13. Pieces: Jazz and Tucker

_Let the light carry you away from the shadows.  
_

* * *

**Light  
**A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

* * *

Chapter 13: Pieces

_Jazz and Tucker_

* * *

As surreptitiously as possible, she fingered the black pendant that hung around her neck. Playing the 'religious artifact' card had been a genius move on her part – and none too soon. She'd gotten her hands on the pendant just a few hours before her transfer to a new prison. Hopefully her new guards would be incompetent and wouldn't question the jewelry.

But it wasn't worth taking the chance of them taking it too soon. She would have to run a test in the van, hoping that the government goons in the front seat wouldn't have any ghost equipment sensitive enough to pick it up.

She studied the two white-clothed men. Neither were paying attention. Taking a slow breath, she squeezed her fingers together, putting gentle pressure on the silky, black wood. Her fingers began to tingle as bluish energy swirled around her hand. She shifted her fingers, searching for the spot that would trigger the emerald energy from the hybrid… if it was there…

_Bleep-bleep-bleep!_

Jessica dropped the pendant, scattering the energy as the ghost alarm blared through the van. Slitting her eyes, she watched the two men scan their equipment and drag out some odd-looking weaponry. She waited, tense, as the alarm shut off and the goons relaxed, muttering to themselves about false alarms.

Letting her eyes drift completely shut, her head dropped backwards onto the hard headrest. A soft breath whistled out from between her teeth in disappointment. Testing the pendant in the van was not going to be an option. She would have to just wait until she made it to the prison and hope they weren't going to take it away from her.

On the slightly more positive side, at least there was someone at the prison waiting for her.

* * *

For the first time in more weeks than she wanted to think about, her little brother stepped through the front door. Jazz was sitting at the kitchen table, watching him slowly walk over to the couch and collapse onto it. She giggled a little when Danny snatched the remote off the coffee table and flicked on the television. He hadn't stopped complaining about the lack of channels at the hospital since he woke up. Apparently some people couldn't live without fifty channels of pointless shows.

Grabbing her textbook, Jazz wandered into the living room and sank down onto her father's arm chair. She curled her feet under her and opened the book to the page she had been on, just sitting quietly and reading. Every so often, her eyes would flicker up at her brother before settling back down on the words.

"What?" Danny asked when he felt her glance up at him for the fifth time.

"Nothing," she replied simply, turning the page.

The TV snapped off, silence filling the room. A small explosion from down in the lab broke the quiet. "You want something," he continued slowly, studying her. "You want to talk. No…" he hesitated, "you want _me_ to talk. You want to dig into my mind again, don't you?"

Jazz raised one eyebrow, but didn't look up at him. She casually flipped another page before coming to the realization that she hadn't actually read what was on the previous page.

"Say something Jazz."

Chewing on her lower lip, she focused on the book a little better, struggling to not answer her brother. If he wanted to talk, she was here – but she wasn't going to badger it out of him. A half-dozen hospital psychologists had already tried. She was almost positive the cheerful and harassed hospital staff had done more harm then good in Danny's case. They had probably realized it too, finally signing the paper that let him go home.

"I'm _fine_ Jazz." Danny sounded exasperated.

She nodded absently, giving up on the page and turning to the next with a mental sigh. She would have to reread the entire chapter later. _I'm here for you, Danny,_ she thought as she studied one of the bolded words on the page. She let her eyes trace the graceful lettering without actually comprehending the word she was looking at. T_alk to me. Let me help._ But she never said a word.

In the silence that flooded the living room, Jazz started to wonder if Danny hadn't gotten up and went to his room. It was unusual for her brother to be this quiet. Her eyes slipped off her book and up into her brother's ice blue gaze before she realized what she was doing. _Maybe it's some kind of byproduct from being locked in that room for so long_. She held his gaze, then returned to her book. _At least he's still here._

Seven pages later, she could still feel Danny's eyes on her. He hadn't turned the television back on, he hadn't gotten up to leave, and he hadn't said anything. _Although,_ she conceded to herself, _he probably can't get up and leave on his own. Does he want me to leave?  
_

A few more pages of blurred and nearly incomprehensible text and Jazz was nearly ready to call it quits. She didn't want her brother to be mad at her for being pushy and not being able to focus on her book was frustrating. _One more page_, she promised, _and I'll leave. He can talk to me later._

"It's weird," Danny's voice cut through her musings suddenly.

Jazz raised an eyebrow, but didn't answer aloud. _That could mean anything. What's up, little brother?_

"When I close my eyes, or when it's really quiet, it's just so weird." His voice was soft and introspective. When Jazz glanced up at him, Danny wasn't even looking at her. His eyes were closed and his head was tipped off to the side. His uncut hair was dangling in his eyes.

She finally spoke. "What's so weird?"

Eyes opened and focused out the living room window. "Something's missing."

"What's missing?" Jazz was trying to keep her voice bored and distant, but she really wasn't succeeding.

Danny shot her a glance and a small smile, then shrugged. "Not a big deal, worry wart," he teased. But his smile faded and his eyes drifted back out the window.

_He's worried and trying to hide it. _Jazz closed her textbook – having not read a single word in the past eleven pages anyway – and set it onto the coffee table. "What's missing?"

"I don't know. Something." He waved his hand at the window. "It's like a part of me is over there – a long ways away."

"A duplicate?"

He shook his head. "No, I can't do anything with it. It's just _there_. Some kind of…" he trailed off and closed his eyes, "...line is tying me to it." He was quiet, struggling for words. Finally, he just shrugged his shoulders. "But it's so small that I can't feel it all the time. Just when it's quiet and I've got nothing else to do."

Quietly, Jazz unfolded her legs. "Maybe you should talk to Mom and Dad about it. They've probably got some kind of invention…"

Danny shook his head, letting the shadow of a grin cross his face. "Not on your life. I'm not in any shape to be dodging inventions right now."

"They need to know what happening to you." She fixed her eyes on him, reaching over and picking up the controller off the table where he had dropped it. "And you never know, maybe they can be helpful. They _are_ the leading experts in their field, you know."

He rolled his eyes. Jazz leaned forwards and touched the controls to turn on the TV. Flipping to her favorite channel, she sighed and let the voices and pictures flood the room. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the almost-smile drift off his face. He picked at his fingernails for a moment with a pensive look on his face before settling down to watching the show.

* * *

Tucker glanced around the crowded living room. _This is a new definition for a 'captive' audience_, he thought when Mr. Fenton dropped onto the couch between him and Sam and effectively trapped him against the arm rest.

His eyes trained on his best friend – who was twitching his fingers nervously and seemed to be carefully counting every thread in the arm of the chair he was sitting in. Danny had agreed to tell them what had happened to him, but it was pretty obvious he wasn't too happy about it. Tucker leaned forwards, trying to catch a glimpse of Sam around Mr. Fenton's girth. His 'blushy moment' senses were tingling…

He grinned when Sam suddenly stood up and pushed a footstool over towards Danny's chair. She sat on it, grabbing Danny's twitching hand and giving him a small smile, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks when Danny quietly returned the smile. _Some things will never change_. But Tucker's smile vanished almost as quickly as it had come when he remembered why they were all crammed into the Fenton's living room.

"So, Danny," Mr. Fenton said, not seeming to notice how edgy Danny was acting, "you ready?"

The boy shrugged, blue eyes training back down on the chair arm. "I suppose," he said softly. Talking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and began his story. "I guess it all started with that brunch we went to. I knew something was wrong already…"

Tucker listened to Danny tell the story, watching him squirm in his chair at some of the parts, covering his smiles whenever he saw Danny's eyes flicker towards the window in the vain hope for freedom. Danny's fingers picked distantly at the loose fibers on the chair as he spoke, an odd note to his voice. _It's like_, thought Tucker,_ he's telling somebody else's story rather than his._

Glancing away from Danny, Tucker studied the rest of the odd audience. Sam's fingers were wrapped tightly around Danny's hand, her face pale. Jazz was just staring at him with her mouth slightly open. The large man holding him in the couch was quietly blinking and had joined Danny in staring out the front window. Mrs. Fenton had her eyes closed, randomly shaking her head.

_How much of this story has she already heard?_ Tucker wondered to himself when Mrs. Fenton's eyes flickered open for a heartbeat. He turned his head back to Danny in time to see him cast a glance at his mother before returning his gaze to the arm of the chair. _He's leaving parts out_, Tucker realized with a sort of numb disbelief as he tried to get his mind around everything that had happened.

_Danny had… died…_ Feeling his stomach sink, Tucker felt the pain of his best friend's death all over again. It was decidedly weird to be sitting next to someone, listening to them tell you how they had died and what it was like. As Danny spoke, Tucker's mind began to spin. Almost like a switch had been thrown in his head, Tucker went from numb and frozen to focused and thinking. _He had died._

His eyes focused on Danny, listening carefully to the story. _How did he live through it? He was dead, and he came back to life._ _That's impossible._ Tucker's brain was on overdrive. Thoughts drifted into his head, were weighed and sorted, and tossed out as impossible. _Voices? He heard voices? Voices would be people…_

The idea strengthened in his mind. _People kept him alive. Danny's saved so many people, and then they saved him. But how?_ Tucker furrowed his brow, narrowing his eyes. He didn't like mysteries – he'd solve this one too.

_Could it be that simple?_ He wondered as his brain muddled over a few solutions. _Could he have just 'borrowed' enough energy from Amity Park to keep himself alive? We let him have that little bit of life because he's saved us? He's our hero?_

Tucker settled back into his chair, eyes distant as the rest of Danny's story just washed over him. He couldn't shake the feeling that figuring out how Danny had survived was, somehow, going to be really important.

A smile began to drift onto his face, completely at odds with everyone else in the room. No matter the outcome, no matter what came next, Danny was alive. Danny was the closest thing Tucker had ever had to a brother, and he _knew_ that no matter what was going to happen, they could solve it together.

Sam shot him a small glare, but Tucker couldn't help it. He let his eyes drift closed as his smile grew.

* * *

Jessica Oscura sat primly on the edge of the bed in her cell, watching the guards walk past. "Well?" a voice hissed to her from the cell next door.

"Patience, little brother." Jessica muttered, pulling her necklace out of her shirt to reveal the small, black pendant. She narrowed her eyes, wrapping her fingers around it, watching in delight as small green and blue swirls of light began to dance over its surface, energy charging in the air. "It worked," she whispered in disbelief.

"I don't like being kept waiting!"

"Quiet!" Jessica snapped. "You failed, Frederik. I, on the other hand, have won."

The sound of snickering filled the cell. "I heard he got away. How could you have won if he lived through it?"

Jessica shrugged, not caring that her brother couldn't see her. "It seems that it doesn't matter if he ultimately lived. It's not even a really big deal that his mother got away. He died. On the full moon, no less. And on the sacred grounds." She laughed, her voice ringing out like hellish bells. "Both of him died. Two lives. Perfect."

Silence reigned as the man in the cell next to her contemplated that. "So you got it?" His voice was barely audible, hope making his voice hoarse.

She smiled happily, the blue and green swirls dancing against the black again. "I got it," she whispered. She squeezed tightly, letting the emerald energy build to a dizzying level.

* * *

Back in Amity Park, Danny's eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed.

**_To be concluded…_**


	14. Conclusions: Jack and Sam

_Don't stare into the light, lest you go blind.  
_

* * *

**Light  
**A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

* * *

Chapter 14: Conclusions

_Jack and Sam_

* * *

Jack was off the couch as Danny slumped against the side of the chair, grabbing an arm to keep him from falling.

"Danny!" Jazz yelped from her spot on the couch as Jack picked Danny up and set him gently onto the floor.

_What's going on?_ the large man thought desperately. The color was slowly draining out of his son's face. _Is he still sick? _He_ g_lanced up to meet his wife's eyes_._

The teenager lay there, growing paler by the second. In the end, there was nothing he could do but watch in horror as his son was surrounded by an odd green glow.

* * *

Jessica Oscura laughed as the emerald energy swirled around her. For a moment, she thought she felt a resistance… some kind of pressure fighting her. She curled her fingers a little tighter around the pendant and pulled more of the energized plasma out into the holding cell.

Alarms were blaring all around her. "Um… Sis?" The grating voice of her younger brother barely was audible over the mind-numbing wail.

She ignored them all, focusing on her goal – freedom. "I want to be free of here, I want the door to be gone," she whispered in a soft manta, using her words to force the pendant's energy into motion.

Green energy flared and mixed with the blue, forming a shadowy figure in the small cell with her. Barely identifiable as a human, it possessed what appeared to be two arms and two legs, dark and infinite black where the body was supposed to be, glinting white around the head, with two electric eyes that stared at her from the blankness of its face.

"Stop what you are doing and drop any weapons," a white-clad guard snapped as he rounded the corner. He stumbled to a stop when he noticed the ghostly form floating in the cell with Jessica, his eyes going wide. "What the…" his eyes flickered from Jessica to the figure and back. "Where did…"

Ignoring the guard, Jessica held up the pendant before the dark figure's eyes. Its emerald gaze fixed on the black wood as it bobbed under her fingers. "I hold your existence in my hand, ghost. You will do as I command."

The guard was joined by two others, all three of them pointing weapons in her direction. "You will cease and desist."

"I will destroy you unless you follow my every command. Do you understand me?" Jessica ordered, completely turning her back on the Guys in White. She glared down the ghost and waited for the vague head to nod its understanding.

A small shiver suddenly slid down her back. The figure never looked at _her_, never focused its eyes on _her_. Its entire attention was focused on the pendant dangling from her fingers. An impossible amount of power was coursing through the wraith that was bound to the small necklace. She knew all too well that it would turn on her in a moment if it could gain its freedom.

Now, however, wasn't the time to think about it. Now was the time for action. She pointed towards the bars holding her in her cell. "Destroy."

* * *

On the floor of the Fenton household, Danny began to twitch and spasm. Energy flared around him in a frozen mist, chasing his family and friends away from him. His muscles tensed as he seemed to be fighting some kind of invisible force.

Jack crouched down a few feet from his son, reaching a hand out in an attempt to touch him. His breath was fogging in the air and his fingers beginning to tingle from the cold. "Danny?"

* * *

Jessica smiled as her wraith turned, green lightning crackling through the air around the figure like a pair of angel's wings. It floated forwards, not bothering to pretend to walk. One hand came up, lightning slashing away from it and slamming into the bars of the cell. The door exploded outwards.

The three guards that had been standing outside her prison cell were caught up in the blast. When the light from the intense flare faded, three bleeding bodies lay on the floor under the tangled remains of the cell door. Jessica stepped forwards, ignoring the guards. The wraith followed her, eerie green eyes fixed on the pendant.

"Free my brother," she ordered.

The shadowed figure snarled, but turned to do as she commanded.

* * *

Sam pushed through the cold, shivering as she dropped down next to Mr. Fenton. "Danny," she breathed, her teeth chattering. "What's wrong?"

Mr. Fenton just shook his head and continued to stare at his son. Danny twitched and let out a strangled scream, shaking his head violently. The light bulbs in the fan over their heads exploded, followed a heartbeat later by the television. Lightning flared.

* * *

Three figures stepped from the smoking remains of the Guys in White holding facility in the outskirts of Chicago. One was a tall lady with a regal tilt to her head, another was a thin man with an overlarge nose, the third a shadowy form floating inches above the ground. The two humans walked away. Following like a fly drawn to a lantern, the wraith trailed behind them, eyes fixed on the small pendant once again dangling around Jessica's throat.

Jessica wiped a small bead of sweat off of her forehead. The wraith was fighting her every step of the way and she was developing a headache.

"Ghost," she said, twisting around to glare at the wraith with her reddish eyes. The specter came to a halt, its supernatural gaze never leaving her throat. Fighting to suppress the shiver that wanted to race through her at the knowledge of just what kind of deadly power was staring at her, she snarled out her next command. "Leave me for now, but you will return when I call for you. You are my servant. You are my slave. You will do as I command."

Power crackled around the figure as it silently raised its gaze to look her straight in the eyes for a moment. Murder flooded through the eyes as it slowly nodded and faded out of existence. Jessica waited for the very last sparks of energy to disappear before she sagged slightly and let her eyes close.

Hands touched her shoulders, keeping her from collapsing to the ground. "You okay?" her brother asked softly.

"That thing is a lot more powerful than I thought," she admitted, regaining her balance and setting back off down the street. Sirens were beginning to sound in the distance and she didn't want to be anywhere near here when the authorities arrived.

"But you're in control of it."

She nodded her head. Glancing down at the pendant swinging on the small chain, she chewed her bottom lip in thought.

Moments before the first police cars rounded the corner leading to the high-tech GIW facility, the two siblings vanished into a grove of trees.

* * *

With one final, strangled scream, the icy fire vanished from around Danny. Sam shivered as the air began to slowly warm up as she watched her best friend relax back down on the floor and seem to fall asleep. She crawled forwards and touched his hand. "Danny?"

He rolled his head towards her, groaning. Unfocused blue eyes opened a little and he blinked at her. "Sam?" he said softly, letting his eyes fall closed again. "What happened?"

"I don't know," she answered. "Are you okay?"

Danny let out a soft moan, but didn't try to move.

Sam shook her head, turning her violet gaze towards Mr. and Mrs. Fenton. Both of them were pale and crouching on the other side of Danny's limp form, glancing at each other with confused and slightly scared looks in their eyes. Tucker touched her shoulder as Jazz dropped down next to her.

The five of them gazed at each other, silently willing someone to know what to do next.

As the last of the sun's **Light** vanished from the window, deep **Shadows** cast the room into **Darkness**.

In the distance, the **Moon** was rising.

**The End.**


	15. Moon Preview

_Come with me and dance by the light of the moon.  
_

* * *

**Moon**  
A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

* * *

You now know how the story starts, but can you imagine how the story will end?

Will Danny be able to reclaim the lost parts of his soul? Will he fall prey to the darkness? Will his family be able to handle the burden of knowing the truth?

Finally, the saga continues. Following **Darkness**, **Shadows**, and **Light** comes **Moon**. Follow Danny, his family, and his friends, as he struggles to defeat a woman bent on capturing destiny.

_Catch the saga... read **Moon** next!_

...coming in July!


End file.
